Break My Fall
by AshCarroll aka ShadowDiva
Summary: AU postep to 'Back in the World'. What do you do when the world comes crashing to a stop and you go tumbling down with it? You look for a way to break the fall. [past GallantNeela, eventual RayNeela, and MorrisJane, with other assorted pairings]
1. Chapter 1

_Notes: Post-ep for 11.17, "Back in the World". This follows the Season 11 timeline right up through "Back in the World", but then diverges, so nothing afterward will be taken into account. Incidentally, I've shifted the timeline a bit for later plot points, so even though the actual episode likely took place in March or April, in this particular story, the events of the episode took place around the first week in June._

_Spoilers: Everything up to 11.17, "Back in the World", with bits and pieces of Season 12, but mostly minor stuff._

_Pairing: Past Gallant/Neela and future Ray/Neela, but other assorted minor pairings may be sprinkled in for good measure._

_Content Warning: None at this point, but there may (most probably will) be sexual content later on._

_Rating: FRT to start, but will most likely be FRM by story's end._

_Disclaimer: ER and its characters are the property of Michael Crichton, John Wells, Amblin Entertainment and Constant C Productions. No infringement intended, please don't sue, yadda yadda yadda._

_Thanks to fc2001 for the beta. You're the best, hun. :)_

* * *

Break My Fall

© 2005, By: Ash Carroll (a.k.a. ShadowDiva)

* * *

The blare of loud rock music filled the room.

Groaning, she snaked a hand out from under the covers and slapped the snooze button, desperate for a few more minutes' rest. She didn't get to enjoy it, unfortunately, because nature decided it just couldn't wait the ten extra minutes to call. Dragging herself out of bed, she padded down the hall and through the kitchen, ignoring Ray's greeting as the bathroom door shut behind her.

She went about her business, unable to keep from thinking that nature had been calling her a lot more frequently over the last few days. She sincerely hoped she wasn't developing the beginnings of a urinary tract infection or something, because on top of everything else that had happened in her life the last few weeks, it was the absolute _last_ thing she needed.

Three weeks.

Three weeks today since Michael had returned to Iraq. She hadn't heard a thing from him; not even a phone call. And she _had_ kind of expected one after what had happened between them. She was sure he was just busy - what with the constant casualties she kept hearing about on the news - but she'd worry until she got a letter. Or better yet, heard his voice.

Finishing up her getting-ready-for-work-routine, she emerged into the kitchen, where Ray regarded her with a frown. "You look like hell."

She scowled. "Thanks a whole bloody lot. And you left your bloody towels all over the floor again." The scowl intensified as she glanced around the apartment. "This place is filthy."

"Sorry," he offered sincerely, but the frown remained. "I'm serious, though, Neela. You okay?"

She waved him off. "Fine. Just tired."

"You want me to drive you?"

She shook her head. "You just got off."

"I don't mind."

Lifting her bag, she slung it over her shoulder as she grabbed her car keys from the kitchen counter. "It's fine, really. I'm good."

He shrugged. "Suit yourself."

She headed for the door. "See you later, Ray."

"Have a good shift," he called after her, watching as she slipped out their front door.

Ray shook his head. She probably _was_ fine; it most likely _was_ nothing. She had a good reason to look like hell. She'd been mopey and depressed ever since Gallant had gone back to Iraq, and cranky as hell the last few days.

He hadn't actually had the occasion to be formally _introduced_ to the guy; but he'd heard through the hospital rumor mill that he and Neela had had something going before he shipped out, so he couldn't exactly blame her for being depressed and cranky.

But maybe he could help cheer her up.

He looked around the apartment just as she'd done minutes before. She was right; it was a mess. He suddenly had the perfect idea. With a grin, he went to work, putting phase one of his plan into action.

**0-0-0-0-0-0**

"Afternoon, everyone."

Pratt glanced over at her. "Neela." He handed her a stack of charts. "Hand lac in four; fever and vomiting in three; back pain in one; abdominal pain in two. You've got Jane today."

"Thanks," she answered, deadpan.

The senior resident tapped the board. "Move it or lose it, people."

Neela rolled her eyes as Haleh spared her a glance. "Neela, honey, you look like hell."

She scowled at the nurse. "So Ray was kind enough to inform me. It's nothing. I'm just exhausted, that's all."

The older woman frowned. "Or maybe you're coming down with something."

"Infection, maybe. Every bloody time I turn around, nature seems to be calling." She sighed and held up her charts. "Not that it would keep me away from this place."

Haleh shot her a sympathetic smile as Jane approached, far too chipper for Neela's liking.

And it was only Monday.

The med student smiled too brightly as she glanced at Neela. "So, who's first?"

**0-0-0-0-0-0**

He scanned the living room, admiring his work so far.

Not bad.

His guitar rested neatly on its stand; the pizza boxes from last Thursday had been broken down and put on the garbage pile; two weeks' worth of newspapers bagged and ready to be recycled.

At least now you could see the couch.

The floor, unfortunately, was another story.

Giving it a thorough vacuuming, he bagged the remaining garbage that was too big to be sucked up, and - turning his attention to the kitchen - he wrinkled his nose in disgust.

The place looked like a disaster area, and he suddenly found himself wishing he had a Hazmat suit handy. He didn't, of course, so he was going to have to tackle this the disgusting way. Starting with the sink, he picked up a dish, holding it between his thumb and forefinger the way some people held dirty diapers. With all the bodily fluids he saw at work every day without so much as batting an eyelash, he didn't know why _this_ tested his gag reflex.

_Suck it up, Barnett. And damn, I'm **never** letting it get **this** bad again._

It took him the better part of two hours, but he finally managed to complete his task.

Four days' worth of dirty dishes washed and put back in their proper place; sink, floor, stove, and countertops spotless; refrigerator cleared out of all the spoiled food and scrubbed clean.

Surveying his work so far, he reviewed his mental to-do list for phase one of his plan.

_Clean living room. Check. Clean kitchen. Check. _

So what was next? Oh, right.

_Clean bathroom. Eww._

He picked up his dirty wet towels and tossed them into a laundry basket with a sigh. If this didn't cheer her up, nothing would.

**0-0-0-0-0-0**

"Dr. Carter."

He turned to see Neela coming toward him. "Problem?"

She shook her head. "I just need you to sign off my charts."

He looked over them as she rattled off the specifics. "Thirty-year-old male with abdominal pain in two. BP's 140 over 90, temp 102. Lower right quadrant pain with belly tenderness. Dubenko came in for a surgical consult and took him up for an appendectomy. Twenty-five year old female with a hand lac in four. BP and temp are normal, sutured the lac, gave her a tetanus shot, a round of IV antibiotics, and a Z-pack. Ready to be discharged with a wound check appointment in a week. Febrile five-year-old with vomiting in three. Waiting on labs. Seventy-six-year-old male with back pain after a fall in one. BP's normal, pulse-rate steady, but due to age I've ordered a CT to rule out any breaks. Still waiting on the results."

Jane approached. "Labs are back on the five-year-old."

Neela studied the paper as Carter signed off her other charts. "Looks like a bacterial infection." She glanced at Carter, handing him the lab results.

He looked it over and nodded.

"So a round of antibiotics, drink plenty of fluids-"

"And have the mother bring him back in if he's not better in a couple of days."

Neela nodded in response and updated the chart, handing it over to him.

He scrawled his signature on the appropriate line and handed it back. "So just the CTs on the guy in one. Why don't you guys take a coffee break, you look like you could use it."

"I _feel_ like I could use it."

He grinned. "Ray's band keep you up last night?"

"No, actually. I'm just exhausted this week."

"Happens to the best of us. Take a little break, since we're slow. If your scans come back on the guy in one, or it gets busy, I'll page you."

She sighed in relief. "Thank you, Dr. Carter."

He nodded. "Gotta learn to take the breaks when you can get 'em."

Neela watched him leave, forgetting all about Jane until the other woman spoke.

"So, coffee. Where? Jumbomart?"

Neela shrugged. "I guess. Let me take care of the boy in three and hit the restroom first."

Jane frowned. "Again? That's like, the third time in four hours."

"I think I'm starting with an infection, or something." She sighed. "I'll meet you in a bit."

**0-0-0-0-0-0**

With phase one of Operation: Cheer Up Roomie finally complete, Ray moved onto phase two. Wandering aimlessly through the local video store, he scanned the titles, trying to find the perfect movies.

Stupid comedy. Stupid comedy. War movie. Stupid comedy. Stupid comedy. Horror movie. Stupid comedy. Stupid comedy. Another war movie.

He sighed. Everything was either lowbrow comedy - which Neela hated - or war movies - which would defeat the whole purpose of trying to cheer her up. He kept browsing but stopped when something else caught his eye.

_Bend It Like Beckham._

Nothing to do with war...Indian girl with an ultra conservative family...funny, but not obnoxious by Neela's standards...

Perfect.

He grabbed it off the shelf and kept looking.

_Garden State._

Chick flick.

_Harry Potter._

Possibility.

_League of Extraordinary Gentlemen_.

Famous people from books. Neela liked books. Action movie...not a chick flick...

Sold.

Taking both rentals to the counter, he paid the clerk, then collected his movies and left. Time to move onto phase three. Next stop: grocery store.

**0-0-0-0-0-0**

They studied the menu above the register. The clerk looked up. "What can I get you?"

Jane glanced over at Neela before giving her order. "A venti vanilla soy latte, please."

Neela bit her lip in concentration, trying to narrow down her choices as the girl behind the counter rung up Jane's sale. Unfortunately, nothing sounded very appealing.

Once Jane's drink had been made and paid for, the clerk turned to Neela. "And for you?"

She tore her eyes away from the menu, finally deciding. "Can I have a grande hot jasmine tea, please?"

Jane shot her a strange look. "Since when do you not drink coffee?"

Neela shrugged. "I don't know, I just don't feel like it today. Besides, with as much as I've drunk these past couple of weeks, I should probably cut down on the caffeine anyway."

Jane grabbed a seat at one of the two small tables near the counter, and Neela joined her after paying for her tea. An awkward silence descended as they sipped their drinks. Neela wondered what she'd done to piss Pratt off this time. Why, out of all the students she could've had today, had he stuck her with Jane?

Sure, the younger woman was eager, competent, and smart. She was also a tactless gossip and habitual brown-noser. She'd even have taken Urbanis and his goo-goo eyes; he only made them at Abby, anyway.

"So," the med student remarked, intruding on Neela's thoughts and breaking the silence, "pretty slow today, huh? Think it'll pick up by tonight?"

Neela sighed as she sipped her tea. "Good God, I hope not. I can't deal with a busy ER."

"Not up to it?" Jane replied. She must have thought about how it sounded, because she amended her statement quickly. "I mean, because you're tired. You _do_ look tired."

"I don't understand it. I had the apartment to myself last night, I slept later this morning than I intended to...I wasn't even this tired when Ray and his band kept me up half the bloody night with their rehearsals."

"Maybe you're stressed, or your body clock's just off, you know? Or maybe, like, you're used to being kept up by Ray's band so you slept too much and it made you tired."

_Or maybe I'm just pathetic; moping and depressed because I haven't heard from Michael._ She scowled. "Men. Who needs them?"

Jane sipped her latte. "I don't know, I don't think they're all bad. I mean, Ray's pretty hot. But then, you'd probably know more about that than me."

Neela almost choked on her tea. "What?"

"Well, you guys live together. Haven't you ever...you know...seen him naked?"

"Uh, no. And I'm not planning to." She considered for a moment. "Though I do suppose he's rather good-looking."

"Uh-huh," Jane smirked.

"If you're into the rocker-type, I mean," Neela added quickly in a miserable attempt at nonchalance. She gave up at Jane's raised eyebrow. "All right, I admit it. He's good looking. He also leaves dirty dishes all over the place, forgets to go grocery shopping, doesn't clean out the refrigerator, blares MTV at all hours, and leaves his wet towels on the bathroom floor. As tempting a catch as that sounds, my heart belongs to someone else."

"Oh, right, that Army guy that was here a few weeks ago. He's pretty hot, too."

"Yes, he is." She couldn't hold back her smile, and she couldn't believe she actually said what came out of her mouth next. "Listen, I don't think Ray's seeing anyone. I could put in a good word for you if you wan-"

Jane waved her off. "Nah. He's hot, but," she grinned, "I'm not into the rocker-type. I wouldn't mind getting noticed by Archie, though."

This time, Neela _did_ choke on her tea; coughing and sputtering as she tried to wrap her mind around the idea. "_Morris?_ He's-"

Her conversation with Ray in the Jumbomart a few weeks before came back to her. _An unethical, talentless dolt who surrounds himself with sycophants._

"- perfect for you."

Jane smiled shyly. "You think?"

_You're both tactless, you both gossip...you're a brown-noser, he's in constant need of having his arse kissed..._

Neela forced a smile and sipped her tea. "Absolutely. You should go for it."

The younger woman finished off her latte and smiled wider. "Maybe I will."

Fortunately, Neela was saved from having to make any further small talk by the vibration of her pager against her hip. She unclipped it from the waistband of her pants and checked the message. "That's Carter. Scans are back."

**0-0-0-0-0-0**

Ray ran over the mental grocery list he'd made before leaving the apartment, checking it against the things in his cart. On the menu for tonight: fettucine alfredo with broccoli and chicken, tossed salad, and Ben & Jerry's. Speaking of which, he still needed to swing by and get the ice cream and the wine.

He picked up a bottle of white zinfandel, then headed for the freezer cases and grabbed a pint of Neela's favorite as a thought nagged at the back of his mind. There was something he was forgetting...

As he turned down the next aisle - which just happened to be cereal - he remembered what it was. Plucking a box of Special K with the berries off the shelf, he tossed it into the cart and headed for the checkout.

Thirty minutes later, he struggled through their front door, juggling two bags from Dominick's and one from the video store. Depositing the bags on the kitchen counter, he unpacked quickly; setting Neela's Cherry Garcia in the freezer alongside his Chunky Monkey before putting the rest of the groceries in their place. A quick glance at the clock told him he had just enough time for a shower before moving onto the final phase of his plan.

_And she might really need it when she gets home,_ he mused as he stepped under the spray, _Pratt's on this afternoon._

**0-0-0-0-0-0**

Exhausted, Neela let herself into the apartment and stopped short, glancing around in confusion. No clutter, no garbage, and she could actually see the couch.

_Am I in the wrong flat?_

She looked more closely. The drums were there, and Ray's guitar and amp. No, this was the right place, it was just...clean. She frowned. Wait a minute...why was it clean? When she'd left earlier, it was filthy. _That means Ray-_

"Hey, you're back," he greeted her, smiling.

"Yeah," she answered absently as she shifted her gaze to look up at him. "You cleaned."

He nodded. "I cooked, too. Come on, Roomie, dinner's ready."

She didn't feel much like eating, but followed him to the table anyway. He was making an effort and she didn't want him to think she didn't appreciate it. Managing a small smile, she seated herself on the chair he pulled out for her, watching as he uncorked the wine and poured it into the glasses.

"_You_ made this?" She looked down at her plate and took a hesitant sniff, surprised to discover it actually smelled pretty good. A tentative bite told her it tasted pretty good, too. "It's very good; I'm impressed."

He grinned. "Hey, just because I _don't_ cook that often-"

She shot him a dubious look.

"- okay, at _all_," he amended, "doesn't mean I _can't_. What do you think I did before you moved in?"

"Ordered out?" She suggested with a cheeky grin.

Ray scowled, but the corners of his mouth were inching upward. "Funny."

A comfortable silence descended as they ate, and held for a few moments until he broke it.

"So, how was your shift?"

"Long. Lots of mundane cases, very few traumas," she sighed, "and Pratt stuck me with Jane."

"Oh come on, she's not that bad. And hey, it could've been worse. It could've been Morris in charge."

"Interesting that you mention Morris. Seems dear Jane has something of a crush on the wanker."

He cocked his head to the side and looked at her. "You know, I can actually _see_ that?" He shrugged. "Good for her. Maybe Morris won't _be_ such an ass if he actually _gets_ some."

Neela almost choked on her dinner. "Ray! I was eating!"

He gave her a sheepish look. "Sorry."

"It's fine, just warn me next time. You know, that I might want to swallow?" She thought for a moment. "And have a sick bag handy? Because that was one mental image I definitely did _not_ need."

He smirked. "What, Morris in his tighty whiteys doesn't do it for you?"

She groaned and covered her face. "Stop...I'm going to need a gallon of sulfuric acid to burn the horrid image away."

Ray grinned. "Will Ben & Jerry's and a couple really good movies do?"

She was exhausted, but he'd gone to a lot of trouble for her, and she did appreciate the effort; maybe she could manage at least part of a movie and a little ice cream before she collapsed.

She smiled as she rose to help him clear the dishes from the table. "Sure."

"Just leave them," he told her as she started running water for the dishes, "I'll wash them later."

Pulling open the freezer, he took out the pints of Ben & Jerry's, and grabbing two spoons from the silverware drawer, handed one to Neela along with the Cherry Garcia.

"Come on."

She followed him into the living room, settling on the couch as he set his pint and spoon on the coffee table and picked up the DVDs he'd rented.

"Which one first? _Bend it Like Beckham_ or _League of Extraordinary Gentlemen_?"

She shrugged. "Doesn't matter. _Beckham_, I guess."

He placed the disc in the player and joined her on the sofa with his pint of Chunky Monkey.

Neela looked over at him. "You didn't have to go to all this trouble, you know."

"Yes I did; the place was filthy."

Neela recalled their brief conversation before she'd left for work and gave him a guilty look. "I'm sorry about this morning."

"It's okay, you were right." He glanced at her. "And I'm sorry you've had it so crappy the last week. Or three."

He knew. It was in his eyes - and the cleaning, the dinner, the ice cream, the movies...it had all been meant to cheer her up. She decided she'd have to take back some of the things she'd told Jane about him; he could actually be rather sweet when he wanted to.

She gave him a soft smile. "Thank you."

He waved her off and they turned their attention back to the movie. She managed twenty minutes before she finally succumbed to sleep, head resting back against the couch at an uncomfortable angle. After putting the ice cream back in the freezer, Ray returned to the sofa and pulled the throw pillow into his lap, guiding Neela's head down to it. She stirred slightly, but didn't wake, adjusting to the more comfortable position. Pulling the blanket off the back of the couch, he covered her and smiled, brushing the dark hair from her face with gentle fingers.

"Sweet dreams, Roomie."


	2. Chapter 2

_Disclaimer: See Chapter 1._

_Spoilers: Everything up to 11.17, "Back in the World"._

_Content Warning: None for this chapter_

_Rating: FRT_

* * *

**Chapter 2**

* * *

Neela wasn't any better by the weekend; her bladder was just as bad, and she was even more exhausted than she'd been at the beginning of the week.

That Saturday brought the first of Chicago's summer heatwaves, punctuated by a gaggle of Girl Scouts with the stomach flu. And by the following Monday afternoon, she was feeling the effects of both - and it was going on four weeks since she'd last heard from Michael.

The apartment was stifling; the temperature outside already well into the 90s. The air conditioning was running, but she still felt too warm. Ray was long gone to work by the time she woke at noon - bladder about to burst; stomach feeling as though she'd just gone twenty rounds on a roller coaster and violently protesting at the mere thought of food.

She considered calling out sick, but with the heat, the ER would be slammed and they'd need every doctor they could get. Besides, with her out, Lewis would probably pull Ray for a double to cover, and she couldn't do that to him; he'd already worked two in the last week.

Gathering her things, she bypassed the kitchen completely and headed for the bathroom, deciding that a cool shower would probably make her feel better. She emerged twenty minutes later; slightly cooler and a little less nauseous, but just as exhausted. She glanced at the clock. Half twelve. Just enough time to grab an extra forty-five minutes' sleep.

She woke again at quarter past one, nausea back in full-force and nature calling. Again. She sighed as she made yet another trip to the bathroom. _Suck it up, Neela._ Swallowing hard, she shouldered her bag and grabbed her keys. With her stomach on the rag, there was no _way_ she was taking the El.

**0-0-0-0-0-0**

Jane scurried along, hiking her slipping bag onto her shoulder. She was late and the attendings were going to pitch a fit. Preparing to be dressed down, she opened the front door to the ER and stopped dead.

Two men - one large, the other medium - were at each other, tripping over chairs and knocking into equipment as someone shouted for security.

She turned to Sam, who happened to be sprinting by with two syringes. "What happened?"

"Fight broke out at the Cubbies/Yankees game," the nurse replied, obviously annoyed. "Idiot medics brought both guys here and parked them in chairs."

Jane turned back to the brawl. Jerry and Malik were trying to restrain the larger man while Carter, Ray, and Morris grabbed at the other. The attending just managed to avoid the bigger man's fists. She winced; Ray and Morris weren't so lucky. The rocker caught one to the eye; Morris took the other in the jaw and was sent sprawling sideways, rolling to avoid the mess of feet.

Security arrived moments later and wrestled both men to the ground. Carter took a syringe of Haldol from Sam and injected one while Malik took care of the other.

"Okay, people," Ray announced to the patients in chairs, "show's over. You can all go back to...uh...waiting."

Haleh approached and handed him an ice pack. He put it over his eye and scowled at Carter.

"How come every time we get in the middle of a fight between patients, _I'm_ the one who gets hit?"

Carter grinned and slapped the intern on the back. "Just lucky, I guess." He looked down at Morris. "Hey, Morris, you okay?"

The younger man groaned pitifully - bleeding from a gash above his left eye - and held his jaw, trying to sit up with little success.

Carter shifted his gaze until it landed on her, standing near the entrance. "Hey, Jane?"

She looked over at him. "Yeah?"

"Take care of Morris, would you?"

She shot Carter an uncertain look. "Uh...sure."

He turned back to Ray. "Come on, let's get an eye-film on you."

Well, at least no one had noticed she was late.

**0-0-0-0-0-0**

A pair of black boots filled his vision, and Morris pulled his head painfully upward, squinting his eyes to make out the owner's face. "Jane?"

"Yeah." She squatted, helping him up by the forearms. "Come on, you should get checked out."

He blinked, trying to stop the room from spinning. It didn't help. "Uh...yeah."

She kept her hands on his shoulders, guiding him down the hall as he staggered toward an empty exam room. He'd be able to walk a lot better if he wasn't so damn dizzy. He swayed and nearly fell, but she caught him, steering him through the exam room door.

"Maybe you should sit down," she suggested, helping him up onto the exam bed.

"Yeah," he groaned, closing his eyes, "that might be a good idea."

God, his head hurt. Why was that again? Oh...right. Patient. Huge fist. Jaw.

_Ow._

"You've got a head lac from when you hit the floor, and you're gonna need stitches, but first I have to check for a concussion. How many fingers am I holding up?"

He opened his eyes and found himself with an excellent view of her chest. _Oh wow..._ "Well, there's two of them, and they're very nice, but they're definitely _not_ fingers, Jane."

"Up _here_, idiot."

She sounded annoyed. He glanced up at her. Looked it, too. Wow, she was hot when she was mad. And she smelled like peaches. Why had he never noticed this before? Wait a minute...where the hell was this coming from? This was _Jane_.

And she was snapping her fingers in front of his face because he'd zoned on her and ended up staring at her chest again. _Oops._

"_Morris!_ How many?"

He felt himself blush. "Uh, sorry. Two."

"Headache?"

"Oh yeah."

"Dizzy?"

"Kinda."

"Nauseous?"

"Not yet."

"So, dizziness and headache, but no LOC, no blurred vision, no nausea..." She examined his head. "Huge goose-egg. Sounds like it could be a mild concussion. Do you think you need a CT?"

He shook his head, realizing too late that it was probably the wrong thing to do. Pain exploded through his head, throbbing behind his eyes. "Ow."

She winced in sympathy. "Sorry. Let me get a suture kit."

"Hey, Jane?"

She turned. "Yeah?"

He gave her a pleading look. "Ice pack too, please?"

She nodded. "Sure."

His eyes drifted down again, and he admired the view as she turned and left the room. He'd never noticed before - probably because it was always covered by a lab coat - but she had a _really_ nice ass.

And Goddammit, where the _hell_ did _that_ come from?

He didn't really have much time to think about it, though, because she returned with the ice pack and suture kit. She handed him the ice pack - which he gladly applied to the huge knot at the back of his head - then irrigated the lac and went to work stitching him up, biting her lip in concentration.

Damn, she was cute.

And he couldn't stand the silence, so he filled it with incessant chatter. The Cubs game, the fight in chairs, his dog, her cats, his cousin Winnie's ferrets...

_God, Morris, you're babbling. Stop before you do something stupid._

"And by the way, I'm really sorry for staring before but I just realized how cute you are and hey, you wanna go to Ike's for a drink after shift?"

Like _ask her out_.

She faltered as she tied the last suture and pulled off the sterile drape.

Pratt poked his head in the room. "Hey, Jane? I need you in Exam 1 when you're done."

"Oh, I'm done," she replied too quickly and too brightly, stripping off her gloves.

Pratt nodded. "Meet you up there."

The door closed, and she went about disposing of all the materials in the proper receptacles before turning back to him. "You should get your jaw x-rayed, and I should...go help him with that," she said quickly, nervously slipping out of the room.

And she hadn't even answered him.

_Shit._

**0-0-0-0-0-0**

Neela grimaced, ignoring the stares from commuters as she straightened up from where she was bent over the trash bin - having finally lost the battle with her nausea after passing a hot dog cart. She fished in her pocket for the pack of gum she always carried and popped two pieces in her mouth to chase away the taste. Sighing, she trudged onward toward the ambulance bay and entered through the triage doors.

Alone at the desk, Jerry looked up and waved briefly, returning his attention to the person on the other end of the phone. Acknowledging him with a small smile, she dropped her things off in the lounge and made her way back to admit.

She looked over at Jerry as he hung up the phone. "Where is everyone?"

The big man shrugged. "No idea." He looked at her more closely. "You feeling all right? You look kinda green."

"Yeah, just a stomach bug. I think I caught it from those Girl Scouts on Saturday."

The phone rang again and he turned to answer it as Ray came up to admit, his greeting muffled by the wadded towel pressed to the right side of his face. The brow she could see furrowed as he looked down at her.

"You okay?"

"Yeah, fine. Just a little under the weather." She narrowed her eyes. "What happened to you?"

He waved her off. "It's nothing; don't worry about it."

"He took a fist in the eye trying to break up a fight in chairs," Sam helpfully supplied as she made a notation on the board.

He shot the nurse an annoyed look. "Thanks a lot, Sam."

Neela's eyes filled with concern and she looked up at him, trying to pull the towel away. He leaned out of her reach. "Let me see."

"It's fine re-"

"_Ray._"

She spoke sternly and he finally relented, removing the towel holding the ice pack from his face. Neela winced and sucked in a sharp breath between her teeth. It was a cracking shiner; beautiful purple and blue.

"Did you get a film?"

He nodded. "Yeah. Nothing's broken; it's all fine." He looked down at her as he put the ice pack and towel back on his face. "It looks worse than it feels, honest. And hey, if you think this is bad, you should see Morris."

"Ray, man," a voice called, "I have _got_ to talk to you."

She turned to see Morris coming toward the desk. His jaw had swelled to twice its size - and he had a lovely purpling bruise across the entire bottom left of his face. Ray was right; he looked far worse by comparison.

Ray rolled his eyes at Neela. "Speak of the devil." Sighing, he turned to the redhead. "What do you need, Morris?"

"It's kinda...personal."

Another sigh. "Lounge, then?"

The other man nodded and Neela watched them walk away with a frown. Grimacing as her nausea returned, she plucked a chart from the rack and headed for chairs.

"Sally Logan?"

A blonde woman stood up. "That's me."

**0-0-0-0-0-0**

Ray went to the counter and poured himself a mug of coffee. Turning around, he eyed his colleague. "Okay, what's going on?"

"My head hurts, I can barely talk, and I think I just asked Jane out."

He clapped him on the back. "Way to go, man."

The redhead looked at him. "Not quite. She kinda freaked, actually; went off to help Pratt with something."

Ray winced. "That doesn't sound promising."

"Thanks," Morris replied, deadpan. "So what do I do? I mean, I don't even know if I meant to ask her out."

"Well, obviously you did, or you wouldn't have said it."

The other man looked hopeful. "You think?"

Ray sighed. "Okay, do you like her?"

"Well, yeah."

"Do you _want_ to go out with her?"

"Yeah..."

"So what's the problem?"

"This is _Jane_, man. She's not impressed by the same stuff as other girls."

_Yeah, I doubt she'd find stapling a fake Santa Claus's head shut very impressive._ "Then maybe you should try being yourself."

"In case you haven't noticed, I'm not exactly beating the girls away with a stick, here. People don't like the real me."

"Well, you said yourself she's not impressed by the same stuff as other girls. If trying to impress her doesn't work, maybe being yourself will."

Morris sighed. "It's worth a shot, I guess. Of course she never actually gave me an answer..."

Ray took another sip of coffee. "And you're never _gonna_ get one unless you ask."

**0-0-0-0-0-0**

Having spent the last hour catching up on charting from her last four patients, Neela looked up as the doors opened to admit paramedics wheeling in a large man. Putting the chart she'd just finished in the proper basket, she fell into step alongside the gurney; Lewis, Sam, and Chuny falling in on the other side.

"What've we got?" Susan inquired, steering them toward an open trauma room.

"Fifty-five year old male, complaining of chest pain. Tachy at 120, resps shallow."

"Okay," Susan said as they wheeled into the trauma room, "let's get an EKG and a portable chest. Someone page cardiology."

"On it," Sam replied, moving to the phone.

Neela looked down at the patient. "I'm Dr. Rasgotra, this is Dr. Lewis. Can you tell me your name?"

The man opened his mouth to speak, but let out an enormous belch instead; the smell was enough to send Neela scrambling for the nearest emesis basin as she lost her battle with nausea for a second time. Fleeing to the corner of the room, she leaned over the basin and deposited the small bit of lunch she'd managed to find time to eat between seeing patients. Vaguely aware of her colleagues working on the patient in the room, she felt a hand on her back, and shifted her eyes to see Chuny offering her a towel.

She took it and wiped her mouth as Susan looked over at her. "Neela, you okay?"

Her face reddened with embarrassment. "I just...need some air."

Chuny wrinkled her nose and shot her a glance. "Don't we all."

Susan nodded. "It's okay, go; we've got this."

She managed a weak smile before making her way through admit and out the bay doors. Closing her eyes, she leaned against the wall, trying to regain control of her rolling stomach.

"Hey, Neela, I gotta talk to you."

_Slow, deep breaths. Right. That should help._

"Okay, so I was taking care of Morris after that fight in chairs this morning. Carter made me. Anyway, he kept staring at my chest! Morris, not Carter. Then he started talking about stuff while I was stitching him up. You know, idle chatter?"

_Sounds like someone else I know._

"And then, he asked me out to Ike's after shift! I got nervous, and Pratt came in and asked for some help with something and I just left. I mean, I didn't even answer him, Neela. What should I do?"

Her stomach lurched and she ran for a nearby trash can. When she was done, she pulled the pack of gum out of her pocket and chewed on two more pieces. Jane was looking at her, nose wrinkled in distaste.

Neela shot her an embarrassed look. "That wasn't your answer."

The other woman frowned. "God, I hope not."

"You did say you wanted to get noticed by him."

"Well, yeah, but I didn't actually think it would happen! And he has a concussion! What if he didn't mean it?"

She remembered the way he'd been so keen on talking to Ray earlier and realized that it had to have been about this. He was probably having a similar reaction; she just hoped Ray had given him decent advice.

"What if he did? You won't know unless you talk to him."

"I'll look like an idiot."

"Or you could spend the rest of your life wondering what if." She sighed. "Look, Jane, if you don't take this chance, you might not _get_ another one. Just talk to him."

The other woman frowned. "I guess you're right. Thanks."

Neela managed a weak smile. "You're welcome. Tell Dr. Lewis I'll be in in a bit. I just need some air."

Jane nodded, then headed inside as Neela walked over to the wall of the hospital once more and leaned back against it, still trying to calm her churning stomach.

**0-0-0-0-0-0**

Ray stood at admit, catching up on his end-of-shift charting, the ice pack and towel long abandoned. His writing hand slowed as he picked up a snatch of Sam and Chuny's conversation.

"Hey, you think Neela's all right?"

"Yeah, she's probably just embarrassed," the Hispanic nurse replied. "You know, for losing it in the middle of that trauma."

He looked over at them, brows furrowed. "She lost it?"

"Well, more specifically, her lunch," Sam clarified.

Ray blinked. "Wait a minute, she threw up?"

Sam wrinkled her nose. "Yeah, but in her defense, the patient belched huge. It smelled so bad, _I_ almost lost it."

Chuny smirked. "That ought to teach him to lay off the chili dogs."

Sam grinned. "Seriously."

"Is she okay?"

Chuny nodded her head toward the doors. "I think so; went out for some air."

"Thanks," he answered, then turned and headed for the ambulance bay, but the doors opened before him, admitting his roommate.

She looked up at him. "Hey."

"Hey." He eyed her closely. "You okay?"

"Yeah."

"Sure? You still look kinda barfy."

Her hands flew up to cover her face and she groaned. "Good God, does _everyone_ know?"

"I don't think so. Sam and Chuny only told me 'cause I asked."

She groaned again and buried her face deeper in her hands before dropping them to her sides and looking up at him once more. "I've been 'barfy' all day. It's probably just a stomach bug that I caught from those Girl Scouts on Saturday."

"Well, I'm off, but you want me to cover so you can go home?"

Neela smiled and shook her head. "Nice of you to offer, but I'll be fine. Feeling a lot better, actually." She shot him a rueful grin. "I think the fresh air helped."

"Sure?"

She nodded and held out her hand. "Sure. Ready to sign out?"

**0-0-0-0-0-0**

Jane wheeled her cart of supplies to be restocked into Exam 3. This was turning out to be the day from hell. Samson and Delilah had gotten into the bathroom trash and dragged it all over the apartment - and one of them had seen fit to cough up a hairball right next to her bed, so when she got up, she stepped in it.

Her hot water had cut out halfway through her shower, leaving her looking like a poodle had crawled onto her head and died. Then, to top it all off, Archie _finally_ notices her, and what does she do? She flees the room like her hair's on fire and doesn't even give him an answer to his drink invitation - which she isn't even sure he meant to make because he had a concussion when he asked her.

Super.

She sighed and shelved the bandages, moving onto the boxes of gloves as she thought about what Neela had told her out in the bay. Take a chance. Sure, that was easy for _Neela_ to say; she had the exotic look going; _everyone_ noticed her. _She_, on the other hand, personified the words "Plain Jane". Hell, no one even remembered she was in the trauma room when there was a mix-up with those two John Does a few months back.

She'd learned to live with being plain and unnoticed, but all of a sudden, Archie was staring at her chest and asking her out for drinks - and she didn't quite know what to make of it. So she did what she always did when she got flustered.

She ran.

Neela's words of advice in the ambulance bay came back to her. _Just talk to him._ She sighed. She was an adult; she could be mature about this. After all, she still had to work with him every day.

Right. She'd find him after she was done.

The door opened and she flicked her gaze toward it.

Or not.

She kept restocking as he came to stand near her; not quite in front, not quite to the side. He couldn't really smile with his jaw swollen, but she had to give him credit for trying.

He cleared his throat, his whole body set stiffly, nervously. "Uh...hey."

She snapped her eyes back to the shelf. "Hey."

An awkward silence filled the air between them, punctuated only by the sound of the supplies being restocked.

"So the x-ray came back fine; nothing's broken."

She hesitated a beat before answering. "That's great."

More silence.

He rapped his knuckles against his skull and gave a nervous laugh. "My mother always said I was hard-headed."

Finishing with the gloves, she moved onto boxes of sterile gauze. He cleared his throat again and she heard him take a deep breath.

"So, about Ike's-"

"Right. We don't - I mean, I don't expect -" Damn, she was making a mess of this. "Your head...and you probably weren't thinking -"

"Actually..." He drawled the word and she glanced at him. He smiled as much as his jaw would allow. "I was thinking we could make it dinner."

Her stomach fluttered and she smiled back. "I think I'd like that."

**0-0-0-0-0-0**

Neela woke earlier than she'd planned the next morning, thanks to nature's call. She'd hoped she could ward off whatever was wrong by drinking a ton of cranberry juice, but it didn't seem to be helping. An appointment with Urology was probably in order; she'd ring them when she got into work and see when they could fit her in.

The apartment was silent as she made her way to the bathroom, which meant that Ray had either gone out somewhere or he was still sleeping. Considering the two doubles he'd pulled last week, she was betting on the latter.

Heading back to her room, she made her bed and checked the clock on the nightstand. Half three. She had to be at work by seven, but first - she glanced around the room - she had to put through some of the laundry she'd been neglecting for the past two weeks or she wouldn't have anything to wear.

Sorting through the basket in the corner, she took out what she was planning to wash another day. Then, hiking the basket up onto her hip, she swung by the kitchen for the detergent and tromped down three flights of stairs to the building's laundry room. Finding a suitable machine, she went to work putting the first load through, telling herself to look on the bright side.

At least she wasn't nauseous.

**0-0-0-0-0-0**

The ring of his cell phone woke him from a deep sleep, and his hand fumbled for it. "'Lo?"

"Ray! Dude!"

He groaned. "Nick, it's -" He glanced at the alarm clock on his nightstand and sighed. "Almost four."

"You work last night, man?"

"No, but I pulled two doubles last week; I'm wiped."

"Too wiped to jam tonight?"

Ray grinned as the fogginess of sleep began to fade. "I am _never_ too wiped for that. And Neela's on at seven, so yeah, come on over."

"Okay if I pick up Bret and Riles and head over now?"

"Yeah, man, sounds good."

"Awesome, we'll be there in thirty."

"Perfect. Gives me enough time to grab a shower."

"Later, man."

"Later."

Ray disconnected the call and dragged himself out of bed. The apartment was far too warm for a hot shower, so he decided he'd better make it a cool one. Collecting his clothes, he padded down the hall towards the bathroom, passing Neela's open door on his way.

Glancing in, he saw that her bed sat pristinely made and smiled; she must be feeling better. The smile gave way to a frown as he realized her room was empty. She couldn't have left for work already, so he wondered where she'd gone.

His eyes caught the pile of clothes in the corner and he noted that her laundry basket was missing from its usual spot. Off doing the wash - definitely feeling better. Smile returning, he continued on to the bathroom and emerged from it nearly thirty minutes later; just as Nick's signature knock sounded on the front door.

Making a detour past his room, Ray tossed his pajamas onto his bed and moved to answer the door.

"Hey," Nick greeted him with a grin as the three men filed into the apartment, "the roomie around?"

"Nah, she's off doing laundry."

"Yo, Barnett," Riley called from the kitchen, "you're outta beer, man."

Ray sighed. "All right. I'll run down to the place around the corner and get some. You guys hang here; I'll be back in a few."

Sliding on his shoes, he pocketed his wallet and grabbed the apartment keys before slipping out the door.

**0-0-0-0-0-0**

The large fans were going, but they only succeeded in blowing the hot air around. She was starting to feel lightheaded from the heat, and prayed that the clothes would finish soon so she could collect her laundry and get out.

_Just a little while longer, Neela. You'll be fine._

She repeated it to herself like a mantra as the next ten minutes passed like hours. She was never so glad to hear the buzz of the dryer. Swiping the back of her arm across her brow, she pulled the second load out and shoved it into the basket along with the detergent; she'd do the folding upstairs. Hiking the whole thing back up on her hip, she trudged back up to the apartment.

It hadn't been so bad, lugging it _down_ to the laundry room, but she had gravity working against her now, and she was feeling worse with every step she climbed. By the time she reached the apartment door, she was so lightheaded and her legs and arms felt so shaky, it was a wonder she hadn't toppled backwards down the stairs.

She struggled through the door to find Ray's friends in the living room. Bret and Nick, she knew well; the other she'd only met a couple of times, and she couldn't recall his name. R-something.

Nick rose from the couch - followed by Bret - and came forward to take the basket from her, flashing her a grin. "Hey, Dr. Neela, how ya doin'?"

"Hey, Nick, Bret," she replied, forcing a smile as her vision darkened and she swayed backwards.

Bret's hand shot to her elbow to steady her. "Woah, you okay?"

Neela took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. "Yeah. Just a little lightheaded, that's...all."

And then she was drifting backwards again, vaguely aware of a pair of arms catching her as everything went black.

**0-0-0-0-0-0**

Ray hummed to himself as he entered the building; case of beer in one hand, grocery bag of chips and snacks in the other. He set the beer and snack bag down under the mailboxes so he could check theirs in case Neela hadn't thought to when she'd come down to do the laundry. Fishing out the key, he unlocked their box and peeked inside.

She hadn't.

Reaching in, he grabbed the stack of mail and sifted briefly through it, eyes catching on the familiar white envelope with the red and blue edging and the postmark from Iraq. Locking the mailbox back up, he smiled and shifted the letter to the top of the pile, debating whether he should swing by the laundry room and give it to her now.

He decided against it; he could drop the beer and the snacks off, then come back down. That way his hands would be free to carry up the wash for her if she wanted. Putting the mail in the bag with the snacks for easier carrying, he collected it and the beer and headed up to the apartment.

"Hey," he called as he entered, "I got chips, too. And maybe we can order a pizza or someth..."

He trailed off as he took in the scene. Bret, Riley, and Nick were standing over the couch, looking down at his roommate, sprawled out across it.

Nick turned toward him, eyes frantic. "Ray! Dude, you gotta do something!"

The beer and the bag of snacks dropped simultaneously from his hands and he nearly tripped over an amp in his mad scramble to the couch. Elevating her feet on the arm of it, he looked into her flushed face and fought down the surge of panic in his chest as he hit his knees; hand already moving to the underside of her wrist.

Relief flooded through him at the strong, steady pulse that beat beneath his fingertips. "What happened?"

Nick shrugged. "She came in with the laundry, and she didn't look so good. We asked her if she was all right and she, like, fainted."

Ray looked up. "How long has she been out?"

Nick frowned. "Couple minutes. It happened, like, shortly before you came in."

"Did she hit her head on anything?"

Riley shook his head. "Bret caught her. Dude, we were about to call an ambulance or somethin'."

She hadn't hit her head, so that ruled out a concussion or other head trauma, and she was wearing a camisole, so he didn't have to loosen her collar. Leaning down, he listened to her breathing, calming further when he heard it was normal.

He glanced up at them again. "Did she say anything?"

"Just that she was lightheaded," Bret supplied.

Ray turned to Nick. "Get a towel out of the drawer in the kitchen and soak it in cold water."

He nodded and returned with the requested item in less than a minute. "Here you go, man."

Ray took it from him without a word and started wiping her down. Face first, then her neck and the top of her chest exposed by the camisole, then her shoulders, and finally her arms. He handed the cloth back to Nick and told him to wet it again. He did as instructed, and Ray was in the process of wiping her down a second time when her eyes fluttered open.

**0-0-0-0-0-0**

She blinked a few times. "Ray?"

He brushed a stray lock of hair from her forehead. "Hey," he smiled softly, relief evident in his expression.

She frowned. "What happened?"

"You passed out; almost gave the guys a heart attack."

She shifted her gaze to the other three standing above her. "Sorry."

Bret smiled down at her. "S'okay. How do you feel?"

"Like I got hit by the bloody El," she replied in a tired voice. Her eyes widened. "Oh my God, I have to be at work!"

She struggled to try and sit up, but Ray pushed her back down with gentle hands. "Only way you're going to the hospital tonight is as a patient."

"I'm fine."

"You _passed out_."

She fixed him with a hard stare. "Did I hit my head?"

He deflated a bit. "Uh, no. Bret caught you."

Her gaze shifted to the side. "Thank you."

"Anytime," Bret grinned, but it abruptly faded as Ray shot him a look and he cleared his throat, elbowing the others. "We're, uh...gonna take a raincheck on the jam session and get going. Feel better, Dr. Neela." He turned to Ray. "We'll call you, man."

Ray nodded. "Take the beer."

She watched as they headed for the door; Nick stopping to grab the case of beer on his way out. Neela turned back to Ray. "You didn't have to kick them out."

"Yes I did, because _you_, Roomie, are going to get checked out."

"I've already been checked out. I didn't hit my head, so I can't have a concussion. My vision's not blurry, I'm not nauseous - thank _God_ - I don't have a headache..." She sighed. "If I can diagnose myself, I'm _fine_, Ray. Probably just a lack of food and this God-awful heat."

He narrowed his eyes. "When was the last time you ate?"

"Well, I had some yogurt and a banana for lunch in between patients yesterday," she gave him a sheepish look, "but it came up in the trauma."

"God, no _wonder_ you passed out." He sighed. "Okay, you win. But I'm calling you out sick. _And_ you're eating. Right now."

She nodded and silence descended, holding for several moments before she finally glanced over at him and spoke. "I'm sorry I ruined your night."

He smiled and gave a small laugh. "You didn't ruin it." His expression sobered. "But you did scare the hell out of me."

"I'm sorry."

He sighed. "It's okay. Just try not to do it again, huh?"

She smiled softly. "Deal."

He snapped his fingers as though he'd forgotten something and pulled himself up. Picking up the bag by the door, he pulled something out of it and returned to the couch, smiling as he held out a familiar envelope with an Iraqi postmark.

"By the way, this came for you today."

**0-0-0-0-0-0**

Ray shadowed her all the way to her room, arms held out on either side to catch her if she got lightheaded again. She'd rolled her eyes and sworn she was fine; feeling much better after some food and a cool shower. She was going to read her letter and relax, so he could quit worrying anytime.

Even so, a shred of panic lingered, and hours later, he stood in the open doorway, watching Neela sleep; needing to see that she was still there and still breathing.

He let the rhythmic rise and fall of her chest reassure him, and smiled as she shifted position. She was facing him now, with one hand curled against the pillow and a faint smile curving her lips; face a mask of peace he hadn't seen in weeks.

That letter must've been good. Whatever it was, it had certainly done the trick. He was glad. She was his roommate, but she was also his friend and he wanted her to be happy.

Sparing her one last glance, he moved quietly to the living room and made up the couch, sprawling himself across it as he stared up at the ceiling. Realistically, he knew that it was most likely the heat and lack of food, and she was probably fine now. But just in case she wasn't, he figured it was better to be safe than sorry. Besides, if she _did_ pass out again, he was hauling her stubborn little ass into the ER to get checked out.

And this time, he wasn't taking no for an answer; he didn't give a damn _what_ she said.

**0-0-0-0-0-0**

Neela made her way from the El station towards the hospital. The sun was just setting, taking the scorching heat of the day with it, and for once she was glad to be working the night shift.

She was still rather exhausted and queasy again, though not as bad as Monday. Her bladder was a different story, however, and she was definitely going to give Urology a call and get herself an appointment with someone because this was bloody ridiculous - she'd gone before she left the flat, she'd had to stop again once she'd gotten off the train, and she just knew she'd be paying a third visit when she finally got to the hospital.

But exhaustion, queasy stomach, and overactive bladder aside, she couldn't help the smile the split her lips. She'd read the letter so many times she had it memorized:

_Dear Neela,_

_I'm sorry I haven't called, and I'm even sorrier it's taken me this long to write. Things are hectic here, as I'm sure you probably see on the news. We had a few close calls with RPG blasts, but I'm fine, so don't worry._

_Actually, that's a lie; I'm **not** fine. I miss you. I wish I'd had more time with you in Chicago, and I wish we'd gotten to say a real goodbye before I left. More than that, I wish we'd gone out on an actual date before we - well, you know. But I guess we're always doing things backwards, aren't we? Still, I don't regret it, and I wouldn't change it. And when I get back from my tour, we'll do things right. Dinner, movie, dancing...the works._

_Now, unfortunately, duty calls. We've got a mess of wounded coming in and I'm needed. But then, you know how that goes. Tell everyone at County I said to say hi. Oh, and tell Pratt he still owes me a rematch on that pool game._

_Love,_

_Michael_

She crossed to the other side of the street to avoid the smell of the hot dog cart that had set off her stomach on Monday and continued on. Arriving at the ambulance bay, she entered through the triage doors and waved hello to Jerry before making a beeline for the ladies' room.

She was just coming out of a stall when Abby entered. "Hey." Her former roommate eyed her carefully. "You feeling better?"

Neela moved to the sink to wash her hands. "Yeah. I've just been tired. Well, exhausted, actually. And I think I'm coming down with a bladder infection or something; seems like I've always got to go."

"Heard you threw up in a trauma on Monday."

She blushed. "Oh that. It's just this stupid stomach bug I got from a bunch of Girl Scouts on Saturday. Monday was awful; I could barely keep anything down."

"Lewis told us Ray said you passed out yesterday."

"Well, I hadn't eaten anything since Monday, and I went down to the laundry yesterday and it was so God-awful hot in there...I guess the stairs back up didn't help. But I'm much better today. Still pretty tired, and kind of queasy, and this bladder thing is annoying, but-"

Abby frowned. "Do your breasts hurt?"

Neela stared at her. "What kind of question is that?"

"Just answer it."

She thought for a moment. "Well, now you mention it, they are more tender than usual..." She eyed her suspiciously. "Why?"

Abby took a deep breath. "Neela..." she began, sounding as though she were unsure of how to say what it was she wanted to.

"Just spit it out already."

Abby drew in another breath. "Think about it. Exhaustion, nausea, frequent urination, tender breasts...fainting. Is there any chance you could be pregnant?"

Neela gave an incredulous snort. "What! No!"

But even as she denied it, her mind was running through the possibility. Michael had arrived in the States the first week in June, and her last period was...the blood suddenly drained from her face as she finished calculating.

She stared at Abby like the proverbial deer caught in the headlights. "Oh shit."


	3. Chapter 3

I made a few revisions to this and ch. 4 (which will be uploaded shortly) to make the timeline a little more clear. When I was rereading while outlining the next chunk of chapters to be written, I realized that some things might be a little fuzzy, so in an effort to clarify the timing of events, I made some small changes to dialogue regarding Morris and the Chief Resident position.

_Disclaimer: See Chapter 1. Jane's nightmare flashback was taken directly out of Titanic, and Morris's daydream was almost directly taken from the movie as well. Although I did change the dialogue around somewhat in both scenarios to better fit the situation._

_Also, Abby and Jake did talk about his internship, but it happened a little differently than it did on the show. The flashback for this chapter was taken, in part, word for word from 11.21, "Carter est Amoreaux", but the rest of the scene from that episode was changed to fit the plot here where they're concerned. The bottom line? I don't own them. :)_

_Spoilers: Everything up to 11.17, "Back in the World"._

_Content Warning: None really. A little cursing, but that's about it._

_Rating: FRT_

* * *

**Chapter 3**

* * *

Shrugging into his rain jacket, he surveyed himself in the hallway mirror. New dress pants, new shirt, new tie; oh yeah, he was going all out today.

_Lookin' __**good**__, Archie._

A bark sounded from somewhere near his feet and he glanced down. "Don't look at me like that."

The Border Terrier stared up at him and cocked his head to the side; ears perking up and tongue lolling sideways out of his mouth.

"What?"

The dog panted happily and stared at him.

Rolling his eyes, he turned back to the mirror and gave himself another critical glance. His face was still a little swollen, but at least now he could open his mouth wide enough to eat solid food; and the bruises - though still visible - were fading to a nasty looking mix of yellow, blue, and purple. Like a colorblind kid had used his eye for a fingerpainting pallette. All in all, he decided, he didn't look half bad for getting his face pounded in by a 300 pound gorilla in a baseball jacket.

He could only hope Jane thought so too.

He didn't know what was going on between them, but he really hoped he could manage not to mess it up because he liked it - liked _her_. A lot. But he wasn't so sure the feeling was mutual; their impromptu dinner date last week was awkward, to say the least.

His face was so swollen by the time end of shift rolled around that he could barely open his mouth. He'd ended up ordering a milkshake and struggling to drink it through the straw as she nibbled at her vegetarian platter. Conversation was limited to strings of nervous chatter - in which she did most of the talking on account of his swollen face - and punctuated by uncomfortable silences. To make matters worse, they'd been scheduled on opposite shifts all week and - idiot that he was - he'd forgotten to ask for her number, so they hadn't spoken since.

But he was going to fix that when he got into work, because - as luck would have it - she was on today, too. And he just happened to have tickets for a dinner cruise on the lake.

If he could just manage to ask her without making an idiot of himself.

Shouldering his bag, he leaned down to pat the dog on the head. "Be good, boy; I'll be home later," he promised, then left the apartment, locking the door behind him.

The ER was slow when he arrived, but then, it usually was on a Monday morning - especially _this_ early. He made his way to the lounge and exchanged his rain parka for his lab coat before heading back to admit to have a look at the board and pick up his first chart for the day.

Lewis intercepted him before he'd even made it halfway to his destination. "Oh good, Morris." She handed him a chart. "Here. Take Jane."

"My pleasure," he grinned with his usual smarm, shooting the brunette a brief glance.

"You _don't_ wanna finish that thought," she warned, deadpan, and he thought he detected the slightest hint of a blush in her cheeks, but figured he must've imagined it, because a moment later it was gone.

He remembered Ray's advice about impressing her and promptly wiped the grin off his face, mentally banging his head against the nearest wall. _Stupid, stupid, Archie!_

"Uh, right," he stammered, "sorry."

Awkward silence stretched between them as they walked toward chairs. _Ask her, stupid!_

"So," his voice was artificially bright, "how was your week?"

_Not __**that**__ question, dummy!_

"Boring," came her sardonic reply. "You know, work."

"Uh, yeah. Me too."

Another long silence hung between them as they walked and he used it to study her profile. Unfortunately, he studied it a bit too long and a bit too obviously, because she looked over and caught him. Fortunately, he hadn't been staring at her chest this time.

"What?"

He cleared his throat. "Uh, nothing."

Jane shot him a dubious glance. "Right. So why were you staring at me?"

His voice cracked. "Staring? Me?" _Shit._

"Yeah, you know - eyes, not blinking? And yes - you."

"I - I - uh..." _Dinner cruise...Lake Michigan...__**ask**__ her, you idiot!_ He took a deep breath. "Are you doing anything tomorrow night?"

Her eyes narrowed. "Why...?"

"I won a couple of tickets for this little dinner cruise on the lake. You know, christen the new boat kind of thing? I thought maybe, uh, you might wanna come along."

She looked at him. "Like what? A date?"

His hand shot up to rub nervously at the back of his neck. "Yeah. The last one wasn't exactly planned. So -" his voice was too bright again, "what do you say?"

They walked in silence for a few more moments as she appeared to be considering his offer. Finally, after the longest minute of his life, she answered him.

"Sure, why not."

A crooked smile curved his lips. "Great. So I'll, uh, pick you up around six?"

"Okay. What's the dress code?"

"Oh, uh, semi-formal."

"Uh, right," she said, eyeing him with a small smile, "I guess I'll see you tomorrow night, then."

_Phone number and address, you idiot!_

"Uh, there's just one more thing."

"Which is?"

The words tumbled out in a rush. "Ineedyouraddressandphonenumber."

She blinked. "Huh?"

He took a breath and forced himself to speak clearly. "I, uh, need your address - and, uh, your phone number." _Smooth, Archie - real smooth._

"Oh. Right."

She pulled a tablet and pen out of her lab coat pocket and scribbled it down, then ripped off the top sheet and handed it to him.

_Yes!_ He shot her another crooked smile. "Uh, thanks."

She gave him a half-smile in return. "Sure. Be kinda hard to pick me up without it."

_You have __**no**__ idea._

**0-0-0-0-0-0**

It was late Monday morning when the sounds of Neela moving around the apartment roused Ray from a deep sleep. Groaning, he turned over with the intent of trying to catch another hour or two, but the loud crash of..._something_ derailed his plans.

He was awake now.

Dragging himself out of bed, he attempted to rub the sleep from his eyes and winced as his fingers made contact with the shiner he'd gotten from that brawl in chairs last week. The bruise had faded to an ugly yellowish purple, but it still hurt. Padding out to the bathroom, he emerged from it a few minutes later to find Neela standing at the kitchen counter, pouring hot water from the tea kettle into a mug.

He yawned a greeting as he stepped up next to her. "'Morning."

She jumped and overshot the rim, nearly burning her hand. "Bloody hell!"

"Sorry, I didn't mean to scare you. You okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine."

"Sure? You didn't burn yourself, did you?"

"No, I missed," she replied, wiping the water off counter. She looked up and smiled, but it seemed forced. "I'm fine. You just startled me, that's all; I thought you were sleeping."

"I was."

She looked sheepish. "Sorry."

He waved her off. "S'all right. 'Bout time I got up anyway; got some errands to run."

"Oh, well don't let me keep you. I mean, you know, if you have things to do."

She added the last part quickly, and turned her attention back to her mug; removing the tea bag and fiddling with the sugar. Ray frowned. She seemed nervous, but he couldn't figure out why.

"You okay?"

Her head snapped up and she smiled, but it didn't look genuine. "Never better."

Ray narrowed his eyes. "You sure?"

"Yes, I'm sure." He shot her a dubious glance and she sighed. "Didn't you say you have errands to run?"

There was definitely something off about her this morning, and he considered pressing the issue, but thought better of it. Whatever was going on, she didn't want him to know, and he respected her privacy. If she wasn't back to normal in a few days, he'd take another run at her and see if he could get her to talk about it. In the meantime, he'd pretend he believed her when she said she was fine.

He held up his hands. "I'm going, I'm going." He started back toward his room, but stopped halfway and turned around. "Hey, next Monday's Fourth of July. You mind if I have a couple of the guys over so we can watch the Cubbies game?"

She was staring down into her mug, idly stirring with the spoon.

_"Neela."_

She shook her head and looked up. "Hmm?"

"You didn't hear a word I just said, did you?"

She shot him another sheepish look. "Nothing after you said you were going."

"Don't jump down my throat or anything, but are you _sure_ you're okay? You're kinda...I don't know...off...this morning."

"I'm fine, I just have a lot on my mind. So, what were you saying before?"

"Next Monday's Fourth of July. I was gonna have a couple of the guys over to watch the Cubbies game. I mean, if you don't mind."

She smiled again, a real one this time. "Yeah, sure."

Ray smiled back. "Great. You're not on today, are you?"

"No, Wednesday."

"Good. You look like you need the break." He gestured toward the bathroom. "I'm gonna hit the shower and get ready to go."

She nodded and he headed for his room to collect his clothes for the day before slipping into the bathroom to shower and change. He frowned as he rinsed the suds out of his hair. Something was definitely bothering her; he just wished she'd tell him what.

**0-0-0-0-0-0**

The front door had barely closed behind Ray before Neela bolted for her room, grabbed the bag from the pharmacy she'd stopped at the previous night on the way home from work, and locked herself in the bathroom.

It took her several minutes to get up the courage to open the boxes and prepare the tests - she'd decided to take two just to be certain - and the longest five minutes of her life to get the results.

The word on the digital read out taunted her. Twice.

_Pregnant._

It reverberated in her head and her stomach churned, but it wasn't just the morning sickness. _Good __**god**__, Neela, how could you not have known? Even __**suspected**__? How could you be so bloody __**stupid**__! This can't be happening. It's not - it can't -_

She squeezed her eyes shut and shook her head clear; opening them again, she chanced a second look at the read outs. Nope, still the same.

_Pregnant._

Reality came crashing down and the questions filled her mind, circling her brain with dizzying speed.

_What am I going to tell my parents? And Michael? And -_

The sound of the front door closing jolted her from her thoughts.

_Ray. _

He couldn't be back already.

She heard movement in the apartment. "Neela?"

Or maybe he could.

"Yo, Roomie!"

_Shit. Shit, shit, __**shit**_

She didn't want him to know, though the rational part of her mind told her that she couldn't hide it forever; they lived together. Still, this was her mess and she had to live with it. Besides, she felt stupid and embarrassed enough already; she didn't need what would surely be his lessened opinion of her adding to it.

"Be out in a minute!" she called through the door.

Stuffing the garbage into the pharmacy bag, she took one more look around to make sure she'd gotten everything. Satisfied that she had, she plastered a smile onto her face, took a deep breath, and emerged out into the living room.

"Hey."

"Hey." He gestured to her hands. "What's in the bag?"

"Oh, uh, new face cream," she lied, trying for nonchalance as she shifted the conversation away from herself. "So, what are you doing back here already? Didn't you have errands to run?"

"Well, I _did_. But the van broke down, and my cell battery's dead." He sighed as he picked up the apartment line and punched in a number. "So I had to come back to call Riles so he can tow it to his garage and have a look at it."

"Oh. Well, I've got some stuff to do, so I guess I'll see you later."

"Okay," he replied absently, turning his attention to the phone. "Riles, it's Ray. Hey, listen, the van broke down..."

Neela retreated to her room; she had a call of her own to make. Closing her door, she stashed the bag - she'd dispose of it later, when she could sneak it past Ray. Retrieving her cell phone from the nightstand, she punched in the number for County's main switchboard, followed by the appropriate extension.

Someone picked up on the fifth ring. "Obstetrics, Dr. Coburn's office."

"Good afternoon, this is Dr. Rasgotra from the ER. I need to schedule an appointment, please."

**0-0-0-0-0-0**

Tuesday evening found Jane in front of her bathroom mirror, shakily trying to apply her makeup. The hand holding the lipstick tube faltered, and she muttered a curse as she reached for a tissue to wipe her lips clean. Her thoughts kept returning to the nightmare about her impending date with Morris - equal parts _Titanic_ and _The Poseidon Adventure_ - that had woken her early that morning.

_"I'm so cold."_

_"Listen, Jane. You're gonna get out of here, you're gonna go on and make lots of babies, and you're gonna watch them grow. You're gonna die an old - an old lady, warm in her bed. But not here, not this night. Not like this, do you understand me?"_

_"I can't feel my body."_

_"Winning those tickets, Jane, was the best thing that ever happened to me - it brought us here. And I'm thankful for that, Jane. I'm thankful. You must do me this honor, Jane. Promise me you'll survive; that you won't give up - no matter what happens, no matter how hopeless. Promise me now, Jane, and never let go of that promise."_

_"I promise."_

_"Never let go."_

_"I'll never let go. I'll never let go, Archie."_

Jane shook her head to clear away the memory.

"Good god, Figler, get a grip," she muttered. "Everything's going to be fine, but even if it isn't, you won't get to be the tragic heroine. Who do you think you are? Kate Winslet?"

She attempted to apply her lipstick again, and managed to actually get it _on_ her lips instead of around them this time. Much better. Dropping the lipstick tube into her evening bag, she smoothed the material on her dress and reached a hand up to tuck a stray curl back into place as she regarded her reflection with a critical eye.

The dress worked nicely, and her makeup was as good as she could hope for - but her hair was a mess. The front still hadn't grown out long enough and some of the curly tendrils had freed themselves from the French twist she'd managed to secure. She didn't have the time to work them all back into place, though, because the door buzzed a moment later.

Jane smoothed her dress again, and snatched her evening bag as she went to greet her date; the back of her high heel narrowly missing Samson's tail as he and Delilah scrambled across the hardwood floor in the opposite direction.

She drew another steadying breath as she pulled open the door. _Show time, Jane._

Morris stood in the hall, wide-eyed and slack-jawed. He floundered for a few moments before he finally managed to locate his voice and remembered how to form actual words.

"Wow. You look - I mean - " He nervously averted his eyes and suddenly held up the bouquet of Gerbera Daisies he'd been clutching in white-knuckled fingers. "Uh, these are for you."

Despite his uncanny resemblance - literally and figuratively - to a fish out of water, Jane couldn't stop the delicate blush that stained her cheeks as she accepted the flowers.

"Thanks." She managed a nervous smile as a swarm of butterflies began furiously beating their wings in her stomach. "Let me, uh, just put these in some, uh, water."

Archie flashed her a toothy grin and shoved his hands into his pants pockets; she could feel his eyes on her as she retreated to the kitchen for a vase.

_Oh, that was__**very**__ eloquent, Jane. Way to wow him with intelligent conversation._

But she couldn't help it; she hadn't expected him to look so..._good_. And he_did_ look good. The suit was conservatively tailored, in a shade halfway between khaki and olive green that set off his brown eyes and red hair. She stole another glance at him and nearly overfilled the vase; scrambling to shut off the kitchen tap. Wiping up the mess she'd made, she carried the vase into the dining room and positioned it in the center of the table before rejoining him by the front door.

He shot her a charming smile. "Ready?"

She smiled back and plucked her evening bag from its resting place across the back of the recliner nearest the door, nodding as she dug out her keys to lock the door. "All set."

"Great," he said brightly, then bowed and offered his arm. "Come then, milady, your chariot awaits."

**0-0-0-0-0-0**

Morris smiled as he stood at the railing with Jane, overlooking the prow. So far, so good. So good, in fact, that it could be a movie. Like Titanic. Well, not the sinking, but the boat, the beautiful girl...

He grinned as he thought about it.

_"Hello, Archie."_

_He turned to find Jane standing behind him._

_"I changed my mind."_

_He smiled as he gazed at her with appreciative eyes, drinking in the sight before him; her cheeks, flushed pink from the wind, and her unruly curls gradually freeing themselves from their French twist to blow about her face._

_"I thought I might find you out -"_

_"Shh." He put a finger to her lips, then leaned in close and dropped his hands to her waist. "Close your eyes."_

_She did as she was told, allowing him to turn her around so she was facing out over where the water would be. He leaned into her, pressing her gently against the rail of the boat, and lifted her arms out to her sides. They stayed up as his hands found their way back to her waist and he leaned in to whisper in her ear._

_"Okay. Open them."_

_Her eyes widened and she gasped as she looked out over the water that rushed forward to meet the boat's prow . "Archie! I'm -"_

"- gonna be sick."

The grin slid off his face as he snapped out of his fantasy, just in time to see Jane double over the railing and spew her dinner down the side of the boat.

He glanced at the other passengers, gawking at his date while she tossed her cookies into Lake Michigan, and gave a nervous laugh. "You know, Jane, when they said christen the boat, I don't think this was what they had in mind."

Jane turned long enough to glare pitifully at him before her stomach heaved again.

_Oh, __**good**__ going, Casanova,_ _she's __**never**__ gonna go on another date with you._

Thunder rumbled in the distance and the crowd of onlookers began to disperse, leaving him to watch helplessly as she stood there retching until she had nothing left in her stomach.

And the evening had been going so well, too; he'd even managed not to ramble stupidly through dinner. He should've known it was too good to be true, though; nothing ever went right for him.

Jane's stomach finally settled enough to stop heaving and he eyed her warily as she straightened up, looking more than a little shaky.

"Are you okay now?"

The brunette swallowed thickly, looking for all the world like she wished the deck would open up and swallow her. "I think so. Sorry I ruined the, you know, date."

He shot her a lopsided grin. "I wouldn't say _ruined_, exactly. More like...messed up...a little."

She turned to look at him, eyes widened in disbelief. "A _little_? I just spent the last half hour with my _head_ hanging over the side of the boat."

"That just means I had a really great view of your -"

She turned and glared at him. "My what?"

_Ass. Uh-oh._

"Uh, nothing," he replied, rubbing a hand at the back of his neck as a nervous laugh escaped.

Her eyes narrowed suspiciously, but she didn't press the issue, choosing instead to turn her attention back to the water as Morris silently congratulated himself on avoiding the close call.

He cleared his throat. "At least the night can't get any worse, right?"

Wrong.

Lightning split the sky, followed by a loud crack of thunder as a hard rain began to fall; fat drops splashing against their faces and clothes.

Jane glanced at him. "You just _had_ to say it, didn't you?"

He laughed nervously, but abruptly stopped when the boat pitched unexpectedly starboard.

"Oh God, not again," Jane groaned, and doubled over the railing as her stomach started with another bout of heaving.

Archie wiped the rain out of his eyes and scowled up at the sky.

_Oh. Fabulous._

**0-0-0-0-0-0**

Neela arrived at the hospital Wednesday morning to find Abby standing in the ambulance bay, enjoying the cooler breezes blowing in off the lake - the previous evening's storm bringing a much needed end to the stifling heatwave.

"'Morning," she greeted Neela with a smile as she approached, "where's Ray?"

"Not on till this afternoon," Neela replied, swallowing thickly as she struggled to keep her stomach down.

Abby shot her a sympathetic look. "Rough morning?"

"You could say that," she grimaced, "I think I left my stomach back on the El." She frowned. "I thought you weren't on till later."

"I wasn't. Morris made me switch with him." Abby eyed her warily. "You okay?"

Neela breathed a heavy sigh. "I'm about 35 weeks from being okay. My life is a mess."

"Have you decided what you're going to do?"

She looked at her. "There's nothing to decide, Abby."

The other woman nodded after a beat, shifting the conversation in a different direction. "Does anyone else know?"

She shook her head. "Just you. And I'd like to keep it that way, if you don't mind."

"Sure. But - what about Michael?"

"What about him? He's on the other side of the _world_, Abby, what can he do from where he is?"

Her tone was gentle. "He has a right to know, Neela."

She knew Abby was right. It was one of her more annoying qualities. But she couldn't even begin to think of what she would say to him now. How was she supposed to tell Michael when she was still struggling to take it in herself?

"He will, when I'm ready. But can I please have some time to process it myself, first? How am I supposed to break the news to _him_ when _I_ haven't even completely absorbed it yet?"

"Fair enough, but what about Ray? You live with him, Neela, it's going to affect his life, too."

"Then I guess it's time for me to start looking for my own place."

Abby's face registered her surprise. "You don't really mean that, do you? I thought you liked living with Ray."

Neela gave her a rueful smile. "I can't believe I'm actually gonna say this, but yeah, I do." Her smile faded and she sighed again. "But I can't ask or expect him to rearrange _his_ life just because I made a mess of _mine_; it's not fair."

"You know, I think taking some time to process everything is probably a good idea," Abby said cautiously. "Just - promise me you'll seriously think things out before you make any huge decisions? Like moving?"

"I promise," she smiled, then paled and ran for the nearest garbage can.

Abby grimaced. "I'll tell Susan you're running a little late."

Neela could only groan and nod weakly in response as she watched Abby disappear through the ER's double doors.

**0-0-0-0-0-0**

"There you are," Susan said, greeting her with an armful of charts. "Is Neela here yet?"

"Not yet," she fibbed easily. "Missed her first train, so she had to wait to catch the next one. But she's on her way; should be here soon."

The other woman gave a relieved sigh. "Good." She fanned out the metal clipboards in her hands as well as she could. "Pick a chart, any chart," she quipped.

Abby grabbed two and headed over to update the board, her gaze catching a pair of cold blue eyes on the other side of the counter. They held hers for a moment - bitter and hard - before turning away, and she remembered their last conversation with perfect clarity - the fact that it was nearly a month ago notwithstanding.

_"So, I was thinking...that I might rank County as my first choice for internship."_

_She looked up at him. That was news. "What about UCSF?"_

_"I don't wanna go to UCSF. I wanna stay right here."_

_He broke into a grin and she shook her head. "Don't do that for me."_

_His grin faded and a myriad of emotions flickered through his eyes before they hardened and settled on her. "When did I say I was doing it for you? Is it so hard to believe I might want to stay at County because I like it here? Or because I have family and friends in Chicago? Not everything is about __**you**__, Abby."_

_He turned and moved to head back inside as Ray and Neela came out._

_"Don't go away mad, Jake," she called after him._

_He rounded to face her. "But do go away," he finished coldly, then turned and disappeared through the ER doors._

"Hey," Luka said, stepping up behind her.

She turned and glanced back at him as she picked up a marker, shooting him a half-smile. "Hey."

He shot a glance at Jake before turning his attention back to her. "How are you holding up?"

"I'd be a lot better if he wasn't so angry. But I can't say I blame him. I should've been more honest with him; communicated more."

Abby followed Luka's gaze as it slid briefly to Sam. He sighed and looked down at her. "I guess that's always been our problem, hasn't it? Communicating."

Something flickered in his eyes and then it was gone. Abby swallowed, suddenly getting the impression that he wasn't talking about Sam and Jake anymore.

"What time are you off?"

"Uh, seven. You?"

"Same." He cleared his throat. "Do you want to maybe get some dinner later, then?"

She smiled and nodded. "Sure. I'd like that."

Luka shot her a grin, the first she'd seen out of him in weeks. "Good. I'll meet you in the bay."

Abby turned back to the board and finished scribbling her name next to her new patients. "Okay."

**0-0-0-0-0-0**

She moaned as something pounced on her stomach, sending a jolt of pain through her midsection. Peeling open an eye, she found Delilah looking down at her, mewling loudly in annoyance, and she groaned as she tried to swat the cat away.

"Not now, Delilah."

God, she felt lousy. Her stomach and back muscles were killing her, her throat burned, and her mouth tasted like a sewer. But the ball of black fur was insistant, the mewling escalating into outright yowling as she pawed at the blanket.

The cat looked at her with expectant eyes and Jane sighed. "I guess you want your breakfast."

Delilah mewled softly, nuzzling her head under her mistress's chin.

"Why can't you be more like your brother," Jane muttered, reaching over to stroke Samson's ears as he slept. Delilah gave another yowl and Jane rolled her eyes. "All right, all right, I get the message. Let me at least have a shower first."

Delilah jumped down and scrambled out of the room, waking Samson. The tabby stretched and followed lazily behind his littermate as Jane sat painfully upright and pushed back the covers. She pulled herself gingerly from the bed, wincing as her aching muscles protested.

She fished through her drawer for clean undergarments and a change of clothes - deciding on a lightweight pair of pajama pants and a ribbed tank top - before heading for the shower. Stepping under the hot spray, she closed her eyes, allowing it to soothe her sore muscles as she thought back to the complete disaster that was her date with Archie the night before.

Oh, it had started off well enough. He'd been on time to pick her up, brought her flowers, and he'd looked so good she'd had to force herself not to openly stare for fear she'd start drooling. Things had gone amazingly well, right up through dinner, and then...

Disaster struck.

She should've known it was too good to be true. Aside from the fact that it was _her_ and _nothing_ ever went right for her, it was a boat. She couldn't even sit on a _waterbed_ without feeling seasick; why should she have assumed she'd be able to handle an actual _boat_? Archie was probably so embarrassed he never wanted another thing to do with her, and she didn't blame him. She should've known better than to think she'd ever be anything other than a Plain Jane.

With a heavy sigh, she rinsed the last of the shampoo from her hair and toweled herself off, changing into her clean clothes before heading for the kitchen. Samson and Delilah mewled softly, rubbing around her ankles as she moved to the cupboard where she kept the cat food and pulled it open. The cats parked themselves in front of their food dishes and looked up at her expectantly.

Jane picked up their bowls and reached into the cabinet to pull out their food. She stared down at the pop-top with trepidation, hoping she could get it out of the can without gagging. She managed - just barely - after a thick swallow, and plunked the bowls on the floor before them just as a buzz sounded from her apartment door.

Frowning as she tried to figure out who could possibly be visiting her, she pulled it open to find Archie standing on the other side, wearing a grin.

Oh perfect.

"Archie," she laughed nervously as her hand shot up to try and smooth her unruly curls. "What are you doing here?"

"Thought you might need someone to check in on you. You didn't look so good when I dropped you off last night."

She remembered the previous evening and cringed inwardly. That was putting it mildly. She'd looked like death warmed over, and she'd felt just as bad.

His voice broke into her thoughts. "So, uh, can I come in?" He shot her a timid smile. "Or should I admire your apartment from the hallway?"

She blinked and stepped back, closing the door behind him as he moved past her. "Uh, yeah, sure."

"You're looking a lot better," he observed, giving her an appreciative once-over.

She reached a hand up to smooth her hair again, suddenly self-conscious. "Uh, thanks." She frowned. "Aren't you supposed to be at work?"

"I got Abby to switch with me. The perks of being Chief Resident."

"You're not technically Chief Resident for a few more days."

"I know." He smirked. "I may have threatened to make her life miserable when I finally take over the position if she didn't switch with me now."

"Shame I missed the fireworks."

"Speaking of fireworks," he gave her a nervous smile, "are you busy Monday night?"

Her stomach fluttered and she blinked. _Did he just ask me out again? After last night? How is that possible?_ "Uh, I don't think so," she responded, eyeing him with nervous curiosity. "Why?"

"They're having a big display over the lake, and I thought we could watch them together -"

"Watch fireworks. Over the lake." _Has he lost his mind?_ "Did you already forget what happened the _last_ time we were on a boat? Like, you know, last night?"

" - at the park."

Her mouth abruptly closed. "Oh."

"Yeah, oh," he mimicked with a smirk that dissolved into a nervous smile. "So? What do you think?"

_After the disaster last night, he's still willing to be seen in public with me? I think I'd be an idiot to say no._

She smiled. "I think, it's a date."

**0-0-0-0-0-0**

Sitting on a bench in the ambulance bay, Neela watched as the late afternoon sun painted the summer sky in brilliant shades of yellow, orange, and pink. Armed with a hot cup of chamomile tea to combat the nausea which had returned to her full force in the middle of the day, she sighed heavily as bits of her earlier conversation with Abby kept replaying in her head.

_"Then I guess it's time for me to start looking for my own place."_

_"You don't really mean that, do you?"_

Did she? Despite her initial misgivings, she'd come to like living with Ray. She thought back to the night she'd come home from a long shift to find that he'd cleaned the apartment and cooked her dinner, even gone and rented movies to cheer her up over not hearing from Michael. She remembered his worry and overprotectiveness the day she'd passed out; how he'd cancelled rehearsing with the guys in order to take care of her. He'd turned into a far better friend than she'd ever thought possible when she'd moved in all those months ago. She didn't really_want_ to move out, but her life was a mess and it was only going to get messier. It wasn't fair to expect him to turn his upside down, too.

She stared down into her cup with a heavy sigh, her thoughts running themselves around in circles until her head hurt. She had a lot of decisions to make; huge, life-altering decisions.

Sam's voice broke into her thoughts. "Neela. Labs are back on the kid in three."

But they were going to have to wait.

Rising from the bench, she downed the last of her tea and tossed the cup in a nearby trash bin as she made her way toward the ER entrance. Sam studied her briefly, frowning as she approached the double doors.

"Hey, you okay?"

"Yeah." Neela sighed, forcing a smile as Sam handed her the lab results. "I'm fine. Just have a lot on my mind."

**0-0-0-0-0-0**

Ray frowned at the chart in his hands. From the looks of things, Rebecca Maddox was a perfectly healthy woman. Her vitals were normal and everything appeared to be in order. Nothing at all out of place to explain why she'd fainted in the middle of a market ten blocks away, scaring the hell out of the friend she was with.

He knew how her friend felt. He hadn't forgotten the day he'd come home to find Neela literally passed out on their couch with his panicked bandmates standing around her. And speaking of Neela, she was still acting weird. She still wasn't feeling well, but it was more than that, he could sense it. He hadn't brought it up again since Monday morning, but he was thinking maybe it was time to take another run at her. He'd talk to her when he got home and see if he could get her to tell him what was wrong so he could find a way to help.

But that would be later - he still had quite a few hours left of his shift. And right now, he had a patient to take care of. He sighed as he turned his attention back to Rebecca Maddox's chart. He wouldn't know anything more until he got her lab results back, but it wouldn't hurt to review her symptoms in the meantime, just in case he'd missed something.

Exhaustion. _Just like Neela,_ his mind added before he could stop it. Frequent need to urinate. _Just like Neela._ Nausea. _Just like Neela._ Passed out. _Just like Neela -_

"Hey," Jake said as he stepped up beside him and handed him the printout he was carrying. "Labs are back on Rebecca Maddox."

"Thanks." Ray took the paper and scanned it.

Pregnant. _Just like -_

"Oh _shit_!"

"What?"

Dammit. He hadn't meant to say that out loud. Jake was still looking at him, waiting for an answer, and he couldn't very well tell him the truth.

Ray shook his head. "Uh, nothing. Just remembered I have a gig on Saturday, and I'm, uh, out of eyeliner."

_**Eyeliner?**__ Okay, Barnett, __**that**__? Was lame._

"I thought you usually just stole Neela's," Jake teased with a grin.

Normally Ray would've laughed at his joke; they'd become fast friends since Jake had matched at County and decided to stay on. But the mention of Neela reminded Ray of what the problem with her likely was, and didn't leave him much in the mood for laughing.

He rolled his eyes instead, the corners of his mouth turning upward as he forced a teasing smile into place with practiced ease. "Watch it, Scanlon, or I'm gonna pull a Pratt and start giving you the shit cases."

"Hey, Jake," Sam interjected as she appeared next to them, "your diarrhea kid's spewing from both ends now."

"Too late," Jake deadpanned, looking briefly skyward as if praying for patience, before turning and following Sam down the hall.

**0-0-0-0-0-0**

Morris hummed softly to himself as he walked the few blocks from the El station to the hospital's ambulance bay. Last night might have been a disaster, but today...today was perfect. He and Jane had spent a leisurely afternoon at her apartment, watching daytime soaps and re-runs of _The Golden Girls_, and he'd even managed to ask her out on another date without stuttering like an idiot. And she'd _accepted_.

Oh yes, life was good.

The double doors parted to admit him and he greeted his co-workers brightly. "Good evening, everyone," he called in a sing-song voice.

His colleagues stared, dumbstruck, as though he'd somehow grown another head.

Abby nudged Neela. "Go ahead," she whispered.

Neela glanced back. "I don't wanna sign out first," she whispered back, "_you_ sign out first."

"Ladies, ladies," Morris laughed, "I won't bite, I promise." He held out his hand. "Ready to sign out, Rasgotra?"

"Am I ever," she groaned, and handed him her charts. "Exam 1 is waiting on an x-ray to rule out a fracture, and Exam 5 is waiting on labs."

Morris turned to Abby. "What about you, Lockhart?"

She handed him her charts. "Exam 6 is ready to be discharged with a round of antibiotics, and Exam 2 is waiting on a consult from Urology."

He nodded. "Go on, get outta here. Especially you, Neela, you look like hell."

"Thanks," she replied, deadpan, then covered a yawn. "Good night, everyone," she called as she and Abby headed for the double doors, a chorus of goodnights and good-byes echoing behind them.

He distributed the charts Abby and Neela had just signed out to him, then took the rest from the basket and handed them out as well. "All right, people, chop chop. We've got a board to clear."

Chuny glanced sidelong at Frank. "What's with him?"

He shrugged, answering with one of his usual acerbic barbs. "Maybe he's high again."

Morris called over his shoulder, but didn't turn as he headed for chairs. "I heard that, Frank."

**0-0-0-0-0-0**

It was nearly half past seven when an exhausted Neela finally let herself into the apartment, wanting nothing more than a shower and sleep. A hundred years or so would be nice, but since she wasn't on till the following afternoon, she'd settle for the next sixteen hours.

Forty minutes and one lukewarm shower later, she was curled up on her bed, clad in her favorite ribbed tank top and a pair of boxers she'd stolen from Ray the last time they'd done laundry together.

The shower had relaxed her, giving her a chance to sort out her muddled thoughts about the baby.

The baby.

The words still felt foreign in her head. But then, it'd only been three days; barely enough time for the reality of it all to sink in. Which was why she couldn't tell Michael yet. That, and it was still early; the risk of miscarriage was highest right now. It was going to be hard enough trying to find the words to tell him she was pregnant; she didn't think she'd be able to find the ones to break the news if something went wrong.

She sighed and stifled a yawn with one hand, the other coming to rest on her abdomen as her eyes slipped closed and she surrendered to fatigue.

Only to be woken up an hour later by a horrendous bout of nausea.

Vaulting out of bed, she sprinted for the bathroom - just barely managing to make it in time - and heaved over the toilet.

**0-0-0-0-0-0**

His shift wasn't officially supposed to have ended until eleven, but the ER looked like a ghost town, and he'd pulled two doubles the previous week, so Lewis had let him go at nine.

He took his time getting home, too, unable to think of anything except what was going on with Neela. To be perfectly honest, he didn't know. All he had was a suspicion, but something in his gut told him he was right. The nausea, the constant need to use the bathroom, her passing out, the way she'd been so distracted and jumpy lately...it all made sense.

But he didn't know for certain, and it wasn't like he had any real right to demand to be told. Still, they were roommates, friends, and it affected his life, too; didn't that grant him at least some right to know what was going on with her? He was torn between respecting her obvious wish for privacy and demanding that she talk to him so he could help her.

The angel and devil seated on his shoulders continued to duke it out until he finally had enough and silenced them both. He needed to talk to her, but he'd wait until he had more than just suspicion to go on. Letting himself into the apartment, he grimaced as the sound of retching met his ears.

It stopped, the toilet flushed, and Neela emerged from the bathroom in a tank top and a pair of his boxers, one hand resting over her abdomen as if to hold it down. She pulled up short as she noticed him and her hands shot to her hair, trying to make herself look like something the cat_hadn't_ dragged in.

"What are you doing home? You're not supposed to be off till eleven."

Ray shrugged. "It was dead and I worked two doubles last week. Lewis let me go early."

Silence descended and held for a few awkward moments before she jerked a thumb toward her room. "Well, I'm gonna.."

He watched as she turned to go, all intentions of waiting to talk to her forgotten as the words tumbled out of his mouth before he could stop them.

"How far along are you?"

Neela rounded to face him and a mixture of shock and fear tore through her eyes as her gaze locked with his.

"You're exhausted, nauseous, constantly in the bathroom, you passed out...I'm a doctor, too," he reminded her quietly as she sank down onto the couch. "So, how far along are you?"

She sighed. "If I've figured it correctly, about five and a half weeks."

Ray crossed the living room and folded himself onto the couch beside her. "You make an appointment with Coburn?"

She nodded. "Two weeks from Monday, but I took two home tests. Both positive."

He knew what that meant. False negatives were fairly common, especially this early, but false positives were very, very rare.

She fisted her hands in her hair. "God, how could I have been so bloody_stupid_!"

"You're not stupid."

Neela turned to look at him, incredulous. "What the hell else do you _call_ it, Ray? I've prescribed birth control to God knows how many patients, but I don't remember to use it myself?"

"Mistakes happen," he answered softly, watching as she stared down at her hands. He cleared his throat. "Does Gallant know?"

She shook her head. "I haven't told him yet."

"Don't you think you should?"

"He's in Iraq, Ray. What can he do from thousands of miles away?"

"If it were me, _I'd_ wanna know."

Neela sighed heavily before raising her head to meet his eyes. "I know. And I'll tell him. But not till after the first trimester. It's still early, anything could happen, and I don't want to have to turn around and tell him if..."

She let the implication hang between them and he acknowledged it with a short nod. "That's smart, I guess. Don't want him in a warzone with that on his mind." Another stretch of silence passed before he spoke again. "What about Lewis? She's gonna have to know; no x-rays or contagious patients..."

"I'll let her know when Coburn confirms it."

"Right." He nodded again. "So when were you gonna tell _me_?"

"I hadn't actually planned on it."

Tension was building, thick and uncomfortable between them, and he tried for a little humor to lighten it. "We live together, Neela. Did you think I wouldn't notice when you started buying your Cherry Garcia with a side of pickles?"

"To be honest, I was hoping I'd be out of here before I had to cross that bridge."

_Out of -_

The full impact of her words crushed him and he struggled under the weight, chest tightening until it was almost hard to breathe. She was his best friend, she couldn't -

"Wait a minute, wait a minute," he shook his head and looked at her, "you're leaving? Moving out? Is that what you want?"

She sighed. "Ray..."

"Just answer the question."

"Which one?" she retorted flatly.

That sounded more like the Neela he knew - he'd have smiled if he wasn't still reeling from her announcement. "Do you really wanna move out?"

A rueful smile split her lips, but didn't quite reach her eyes. "I can't believe I'm actually gonna say this, but...no. I actually rather like living here."

"And I like having you here, so what's the problem?"

She averted her gaze. "My life is a mess, Ray. I can't ask you to turn yours upside down, too."

Hey." He tipped her chin up, green eyes meeting brown. "You don't have to ask."

"But what about your band? You have rehearsals and gigs...a baby's going to complicate all of that."

He shrugged. "So we'll find someplace else to rehearse, we'll figure something out. I'm getting tired of always buying the beer anyway; you know how they guzzle it."

The corners of her mouth inched upward and a small laugh escaped. Mission: accomplished. He grinned and pointed a finger at her.

"Was that a_laugh_ I just heard?"

Her smiled abruptly faded and she sighed. "I just don't want to ruin anything for you."

A gentle smile curved his lips. "The only way you could do that is by leaving me." He stared at her with unguarded eyes, unflinching in their honesty. "You're my best friend, Neela, let me help."

Her gaze held his for a moment, the stiff set of her shoulders slackening in defeat as she gave in with a sigh. "Okay."

"Good."

He slipped a supportive arm around her shoulders and leaned back against the couch, pulling her with him. She leaned her head against his shoulder and he ran his fingers through her hair, a comfortable silence enveloping them until her soft query pierced it.

"Ray?"

"Yeah?"

"Abby's the only other person that knows."

"Don't worry, Roomie, your secret's safe with me," he promised, then frowned. "But I am gonna have to tell the guys. They're gonna wanna know why we have to find a new place to rehearse."

Neela sighed again and nodded. "I just don't want it around the hospital yet; I'm not ready."

Her body stiffened, and Ray moved his hand to her shoulder, rubbing in slow rhythmic circles until the tension ebbed away and she relaxed against him. "I know, it's okay."

"Thanks, Ray."

His fingers found their way back to her hair and he rested his cheek atop her head. "Hey, that's what friends are for, right?"

He could hear the smile in her voice. "Right."

"You think you can manage to keep down some dinner?"

She shrugged. "Maybe, if it isn't something too heavy."

"Broth and crackers? I think we have some saltines."

Neela pulled back to look at him. "Guess I'd better get used to eating those, huh?" she queried with a rueful grin as she made a move to get up.

He disentangled himself from her and shook his head. "You sit here, I'll get it."

She looked like she was going to protest, but ultimately sat back and nodded. Ray headed off to the kitchen and heated up a can of broth, splitting it between two mugs. Placing them both on a tray, he added a dish of saltines and opened the fridge for a couple of drinks. He'd reached for two beers out of habit before he realized what he was doing and shook his head. His hand changed course, snagging a couple of bottles of water instead. He placed them on the tray as well, then picked it up and headed for the living room, unable to keep from thinking that life as they knew it was about to change.


	4. Chapter 4

_I apologize for the insanely long wait. Real Life has been so hectic lately...like Ray said, 'Everytime I think I've turned a corner...' sigh Anyway, here it is. And I hope the horrendously long chapter will more than make up for the interminably long wait. Feedback, as always, is cherished._

_Disclaimer: See Chapter 1. _

_Spoilers: Everything up to 11.17, "Back in the World"._

_Content Warning: None really. A little cursing, but that's about it._

_Rating: FRT_

_Notes: Since there was no porch collapse, Benny didn't die. So I've used him in all his idiot glory as the band's drummer. :D And I apologize for any mistakes with the medical stuff. Did as much research as I could, but I'm not sure it's totally correct. If not, feel free to let me know so I can fix it and have it for later fics. :)_

* * *

**Chapter 4**

* * *

Ray spent most of that Friday night's rehearsal distracted. The band let it go until he missed the key change coming out of the bridge on the fourth song in the set. The sour note was too obvious to ignore.

"Dude," Nick asked, "what's_with_ you?"

"Yeah," Bret agreed, "it's like you've been somewhere else all night."

Ray sighed. He'd planned to wait until after rehearsal to tell them, but considering he couldn't focus worth a damn if his life depended on it, he figured now was as good a time as any.

"Yeah, I have. I was gonna wait till later, but -" He sighed again and indicated the couch. "We gotta talk."

"Sounds serious," Riley observed as Benny set down his drumsticks and they all took a seat.

"It is." Ray took a deep breath. Now or never. "We can't rehearse here anymore." He paused. "And the equipment has to go too."

Nick's mouth dropped open. "You're kidding, right?"

His silence was all the answer they needed.

"What, is this _Neela's_ rule?" Benny asked.

Ray glared at him. "No, mine." He turned back to the others with a sigh. "Look, she doesn't want it getting out yet, but she's having a baby, okay? She's gonna need her rest, not to mention room for all the baby stuff -"

Bret, Riley, and Nick just looked at him. Benny, as usual, was slow on the uptake.

"Oh my God, she got knocked up?"

Ray glared harder. "It wasn't like that."

The drummer's eyes widened as a light bulb seemed to click on and short-circuit what little was left of his brain. "Holy shit! _You_ knocked her up?"

Ray blinked, surprised by the assumption. _What the hell?_ He recovered after a moment and leaned across Bret to smack Benny.

Hard.

Benny gingerly rubbed his head. "Ow! What'd you do that for?"

Bret and Riley just looked at him, and Nick shook his head. "You really don't know?" At Benny's blank stare, he shot a glance at his bandmates. "And you guys think _I'm_ the dumb one."

Ray rolled his eyes, but he had to admit Nick kind of had a point. "Jesus, Benny, don't be such a bonehead. We're just friends, okay? It's all we've ever been. And anyway she's got a boyfriend. In Iraq."

"Oh."

"Yeah. Oh." Ray sighed, turning his attention to the rest of the guys. "Look, I know this is last minute and it puts us behind, but -"

Bret clapped a hand on his shoulder. "Hey man, don't sweat it. We'll figure something out."

"Yeah," Nick added, and Riley nodded in agreement, "anything for Dr. Neela."

**0-0-0-0-0-0**

Neela finished rinsing her mouth and straightened up with a groan. She felt like hell, and studying her reflection in the bathroom mirror, she had to admit she looked the part, too. Tired eyes stared back at her as dark hair hung limply at her shoulders to frame her face, pale despite her dark complexion - like coffee with too much cream.

Splashing cold water on her face, she patted it dry and applied her makeup in an effort to not look quite so much like the walking dead.

Not that it helped.

Frowning, she gave her reflection another quick glance and squared her shoulders with a sigh. _Suck it up, Rasgotra._

Emerging from the bathroom, she found Ray at the counter, pouring hot water from the tea kettle into a couple of mugs. He looked up, eyes widening as he took in the sight of her.

"Jesus, Neela, you look like crap."

"'Morning to you too, Ray," she shot back tartly, folding herself into one of the kitchen chairs with a groan. "God, I'm never gonna make it through the next eight weeks."

He set a mug and the sugar bowl in front of her, then handed her a spoon. "Yes, you will."

"Easy for you to say," she retorted as she dunked the tea bag and added her sugar, "_you_ haven't spent the last two puking your guts up morning, noon, and night."

He winced. "Good point. Sorry."

Neela closed her eyes and pinched the bridge of her nose, expelling a breath with a heavy sigh. "No, I'm sorry. It's just really bad this morning, and I'm not looking forward to spending eight hours - on a Saturday no less - with Morris of all people."

Ray shot her a teasing grin and crossed to the toaster, snagging the plain bagel as it popped up. He set it on a plate in front of her. "Well, look on the bright side." He grinned. "Maybe you'll get to puke on him."

Rolling her eyes, she ripped off a tiny piece of the bagel and sipped her tea, chewing slowly. "Don't joke. The way I feel this morning, I just might."

His expression sobered. "Maybe you should call in."

She looked at him. "What, for the next eight weeks? Come on, Ray, you know I can't do that."

"Then at least let me call the guys and tell them Monday's off."

Neela shook her head, emphatic. "No. You've rearranged your life enough for me already. And speaking of which, how'd it go last night with the band?"

He washed down his bagel with a mouthful of tea and looked thoughtful for a moment. "It went...okay."

She sighed and shifted her gaze to meet his across the table. There was something he wasn't telling her. She bit her lip. "They're mad, aren't they?"

Ray cocked his head. "Mad? No. _Suprised_, maybe, but not mad." He grinned. "To quote Nick, 'anything for Dr. Neela'."

"I almost wish they _had_ been mad." Ray quirked a brow as Neela ripped off another small piece of her bagel and offered a sheepish smile. "Now I feel bad for complaining about them so much."

"And here you thought they were stupid," he smirked, as she laughed softly and shook her head. "So what time do you get off?"

"Seven."

"Don't take the El; I'll pick you up."

"In what?" she wondered, incredulous. "My car's having the brakes done and your van's in the shop."

"Actually..." Ray sighed. "Riley talked to me about the van at rehearsal last night."

Neela frowned. "That doesn't sound good. What did he say?"

"Needs a complete engine rebuild. It'd cost a couple grand, assuming he could even find the parts. If I'm gonna spend that much, I might as well get a new one. I mean, a new used one."

"Makes sense, I guess." She checked the clock, prompting a heavy sigh. "I'd better get changed and get ready to go."

"Okay. I'll meet you outside the bay at seven?"

Neela gave him a nod and a tired smile as she rose from the table. "Yeah."

**0-0-0-0-0-0**

Pulling the carafe from the coffeemaker, Jake wrinkled his nose and took a hesitant sniff. Satisfied that it probably _wouldn't_ rot out the lining out of his stomach, he poured himself a cup and leaned against the counter with a sigh.

Between being late for his shift, the multiple trauma that arrived not even five minutes after he'd come through the door, and flat-out rejecting Abby's attempts to talk to him all morning, the day had progressed from bad to hellacious in record time, leaving him with a migraine for his trouble.

He looked up as Abby entered the lounge, and wondered - as he pushed away from the counter and headed for the door - who he'd pissed off to deserve the kind of day he was having.

"Ja-"

He put up a hand, cutting her off and dismissing her all at the same time. "I'm really not interested in anything you have to say."

"Just hear me out." She took a breath. "I'm sorry."

He gave a bitter laugh. "And what? That's supposed to make it all better? I'm supposed to forget that you led me on? Treated me like a human blow-up doll? _Sorry_, but I don't think so."

She flinched at his words and met his eyes. "I made a mistake, Jake."

"Damn right you did. If you want absolution, Abby, you're looking in the wrong place. 'Cause you're not gonna find it here."

Her words were quiet - resigned. "I know. You don't think I deserve it and maybe I don't." She sighed and looked up at him. "Look, I made a mistake, okay? I'm sorry. I should've communicated better, been more honest with you. But it's been a month, we have to work together." She looked almost desperate now. "Can't we...I don't know...put this behind us and move on?"

The door opened and Sam poked the upper half of her body into the room, looking suspiciously between him and Abby. "Hey, Jake, films are back on your skateboard kid."

"Thanks, I'll be right there."

Sam acknowledged him with a short nod as she let the door close, and Jake turned back to look at Abby, watching him with expectant eyes, waiting for an answer to her question.

Tension hung heavy between them, and he looked at her for a moment, trying to remember what he'd ever seen in her. He couldn't, and it didn't really matter; whatever it was, it was gone now.

Her voice stopped him as he started for the door. "Can't we?"

He turned around to look at her as he reached for the handle, his tone, expression, and words carefully neutral. "I don't know, Abby. Someday? Yeah, maybe. But right now? I don't think so."

She nodded in defeat. "I really am sorry, Jake."

"I know." He jerked a thumb at the door. "I have patients to see."

"Yeah. Me too."

They went their separate ways as they left the lounge, and he met Sam outside Exam 2 with the first genuine smile he could remember in weeks; the resentment and bitterness he'd harbored toward Abby for the past month was beginning to ebb away, along with the pain and pounding in his head.

Sam raised an eyebrow and shot him a sidelong glance. "_Someone's_ in a good mood."

Jake shrugged and offered a grin. "What can I say? I haven't been puked on in -" he consulted his watch, "two hours - and my shift's half over." He winked. "The day's looking up."

**0-0-0-0-0-0**

The steady whine of the monitor seemed twice as loud - punctuated by the rhythmic squeaking of the gurney as it rocked in time with the chest compressions. His arms ached with the effort, but he couldn't bring himself to stop.

"Morris." The other resident's voice was uncharacteristically sympathetic. "It's time to call it."

Threads of sanity wove themselves through the desperation as reality began to set in and he looked at the monitor.

Still in asystole.

"How long?"

Pratt's reply was somber. "Almost twenty minutes."

Even if they did get him back, he'd been down too long for there to be hope of viable brain activity.

Reluctantly, he ceased compressions and disconnected the ambu-bag. "Time of death, 1102."

"Hey." Pratt glanced over at him as they stripped off their gloves and trauma gowns, depositing them into one of the large biohazard containers sitting in the hall. "You okay?"

Morris sighed. "Yeah."

Pratt gripped his shoulder in what passed for a gesture of support. "We did our best, you know. We can't save 'em all."

"I know. It's just -" He shrugged and Pratt's hand dropped off his shoulder. "He had no friends; his family didn't even care enough to come in when we called them. He died alone, surrounded by strangers, and no one's probably even going to notice he's gone. He was only twenty-nine; I'll be thirty next week..." Another sigh escaped. "I guess I just - saw myself."

"It's not too late to change that, you know. Just because it's the way it is now doesn't mean it's the way it has to be." Pratt looked at him and it was his turn to sigh. "Look, some of us are living on borrowed time, some of us aren't. Nobody ever knows who's who until it's too late to do anything about it. That's why we gotta make the most outta the time we get."

Archie stopped to consider the other man's words and found them too true for his liking. He had nothing to show for his twenty-nine - soon-to-be thirty - years but a string of failures, surpassed only by the list of chances he'd never taken and things he'd never done. But Pratt was right; it wasn't too late to change it, and that was exactly what he planned to do.

It was long past time for him to start crossing things off his list.

And he knew just where to start.

**0-0-0-0-0-0**

Ray regarded the row of rusted out conversion vans with a frown. They weren't in any better condition than the one he'd just junked. The _best_ of the bunch probably wouldn't last him the year - or the month.

And then there was Neela.

If he expected to drive her places, he needed to do it in something with a higher safety rating than a rusted tin can.

He'd always been more interested in how _much_ his van could hold rather than how _well_ it would hold up in a collision, but things had changed. There was a baby to think about now, and he couldn't afford to be that reckless anymore.

Glancing around the sea of used vehicles on the lot, he weighed his options. He needed something big enough to transport the band's equipment, but safe enough to drive Neela - and eventually the baby - around in.

Sedans and station wagons were too small to haul everything; trucks were too impractical - not enough room for a car seat or a stroller - and SUVs had a tendency to flip over. His gaze slid over to the rows of minivans. Making his way over to them, he peeked at the stickers on the windows and blinked. Even the cheapest of the bunch was about six thousand dollars more than he'd planned on spending. But he needed something safe and reliable, with enough cargo space to hold all the band's crap.

This 'being-a-responsible-adult' thing? Really sucked ass sometimes.

"Can I help you, sir?"

He turned to glance at the salesman and sighed. He didn't need that new guitar and amp right now, anyway, and the guys would never let him live it down - but like Nick had said, anything for Neela.

"Yes, actually. I need a new van..."

**0-0-0-0-0-0**

"You know," Neela said, gesturing to the chart in her friend's hands, "if you keep staring like that you'll burn a hole through it."

Abby shot her a deadpan look, nodding to the stack beside her. "Great. That'll be one less I have to worry about doing."

"Have you taken your break yet?"

Abby shook her head. "Haven't had time."

"Well I could use one, and there's time now. Come on."

After leaving word with Jerry to let an attending know where to find them, they made their way out into the ambulance bay, and a few minutes later they were seated on a bench, coffee - and chamomile tea for Neela - in hand.

Abby stared at the cup in her hands as her earlier confrontation with Jake rolled around in her head - knocking into walls and skittering around in circles with a force that made her head hurt.

A human blow-up doll? Had she really treated him that way? It hadn't been her intention, but then, a lot of things seemed to be happening lately that she hadn't intended.

Hurting Jake...this 'thing' with Luka -

She didn't even realize Neela was speaking to her until the other woman's voice cut sharply across her thoughts. "_Abby._" She glanced up, startled, and Neela sighed. "You didn't hear a word I said, did you?"

She looked sheepish, then sobered. "Sorry. My mind's somewhere else. I tried to talk to Jake about putting this whole thing behind us, and it...didn't go well."

"I don't mean to be unsympathetic, and I know it's been a month, but after the way you treated him, what did you expect?"

Abby sipped her coffee and averted her gaze with a sigh. "I know. The words 'led me on' and 'treated me like a human blow-up doll' may have been used."

Neela cringed. "Ouch."

"Yeah."

Silence curled around them and they sat fidgeting with their cups until Neela's soft admission pierced the quiet.

"Ray knows."

Abby's eyebrows shot up. This was news. "I thought you weren't gonna say anything."

"I wasn't. But he figured it out and called me on it, and then I sort of had to." She looked at her. "Go on, say it. Say you told me so. You know you want to."

"Yeah, but that would be mean. And anyway I don't have to," she offered smugly, "_you_ just said it for me."

Neela's lips twisted into a scowl. "_Thanks_, Abby."

"You're welcome," she grinned, then sobered. "So what did he say?"

She listened as Neela filled in all the details, glad to have something else to concentrate on besides Jake and Luka.

"And then he told the band they had to find somewhere else to rehearse and all the equipment had to go, too."

Abby snorted. "Bet _that_ went over well."

"Actually, Ray said they weren't mad, just surprised." She smiled softly. "Apparently, they like me."

"Why wouldn't they? And for what it's worth, I think it's good you're not moving out."

"Well, I didn't really _want_ to. I just - it's not fair he has to rearrange his whole life because of my stupid mistake."

Abby looked at Neela and gave her a soft smile which she returned. "If there's anyone he'll willingly do it for, it's you. Besides," she grinned, "a little responsibility'll be good for him."

Neela chuckled in spite of herself and checked her watch with a sigh. "Speaking of, we should get back."

"Yeah," Abby echoed her sigh and agreed with a reluctant nod. "X-rays are probably in on your slip and fall guy." She grimaced. "And I still have a mountain of charting to finish."

They stepped back into the bustle of the ER and Neela glanced down to skim over the bright green flyer someone had just shoved into her hand. She quirked a brow at Abby, holding up the paper for her perusal.

"You going?"

"Can't." She tried not to grin and failed. For once she was glad she'd drawn the short straw. "I'm on graveyard."

"Wish _I_ was. Ray'll go because he feels sorry for Morris. And _I'll_ end up going because I feel sorry for _Ray_."

Abby eyed the paper in Neela's hand. "Karaoke?" She rolled her eyes. "Ray's not the only one you're gonna feel sorry for. And you _might_ wanna invest in some ear plugs. But hey, look on the bright side. At least there's free food."

**0-0-0-0-0-0**

Ray stared at the wall of books, overwhelmed. This had seemed like a good enough idea when he'd driven the new van off the lot. Now, though, he got the feeling he was out of his league.

He'd talked Neela out of moving, practically begged her to let him help her. The least he could do was read up on everything so he'd know what the hell he was doing when he tried to.

As a _doctor_, he knew more than enough about the clinical side of pregnancy. But as a _friend_, he wanted to be able to give Neela the emotional support she was going to need too - something more than tea and bagels and hollow words as she battled through morning sickness and fatigue for the next eight weeks, to say nothing of what would come after.

Taking a deep breath, Ray let his desire to support Neela center him and looked up at the wall of books, skimming the titles with renewed purpose.

_Come on, Barnett, you can do this._

His gaze settled on a copy of _What to Expect When Your Wife Is Expecting._ Okay, so the wife part didn't exactly fit, but it was the closest he could get to roommate. Tossing it into his basket, he moved onto the next title that caught his attention.

_She's Having A Baby - And I'm Having A Breakdown._

He tossed it into his basket as well. He'd already bought a freaking _minivan_. A breakdown couldn't be too far behind.

An hour later, he was headed for the check-out, surveying the contents of his basket with a frown. Ten titles, including some naming books for Neela, _The Morning Sickness Companion_, and a pregnancy cookbook.

It occurred to him that he might be going slightly overboard; he hadn't read this much since med school.

He stepped up to the first available cashier and placed his basket on the counter, unloading his purchases. The woman behind the register gave him a knowing smile as she rang up the sale.

"First one, huh?"

He floundered for a moment, caught off-guard. Was _everyone_ going to make that assumption? "Oh, I'm not -"

She waved him off with a smile and a short laugh. "That's okay; there's no need to be embarrassed about it; I think most husbands go a little crazy with the first one." She grinned. "Mine bought more books than this."

Ray could only nod as she finished ringing up the sale. He handed his credit card over to cover the purchase and scrawled his signature on the receipt, watching as she tucked his copy into one of the bags and handed them over.

"Happy reading," she chirped, "and congratulations to you and your wife."

He rubbed a hand across the back of his neck. It wasn't worth it to correct her; the truth was longer and more complicated than he had time for, and she probably wouldn't let him get it out anyway.

"Uh, thanks," he muttered, then quickly left the store.

**0-0-0-0-0-0**

The late afternoon sun dipped slowly below the horizon, taking the heat of the summer day with it. Sam folded herself onto an out of the way bench and leaned against the wall behind it, glad for the feel of the cool cement through her nursing scrubs.

She watched unseen as Luka and Abby stepped out through the bay doors together, talking and smiling about something. She knew she had no right to be upset; she was the one who'd broken it off, after all. But it stung that he could move on so quickly - like they'd never slept together, _lived_ together. Like he'd never mentioned wanting to have _a child_ together.

Pushing the thoughts away with a heavy sigh, she told herself that if nothing else, the fact that he'd already moved on meant that she'd made the right choice by ending things when she had. But the knowledge left her feeling worthless instead of vindicated; she couldn't bring herself to give him what he'd wanted, and she and Alex hadn't been enough.

Her thoughts were interrupted by a shadow cutting across the sun, and she shifted her gaze to find Jake standing over her with two steaming cups of coffee from the place up the street.

"Hey." Jake handed her a cup. "Thought you could use this."

"Thanks," Sam smiled and took a sip, savoring the taste. She cocked her head to the side after a moment and looked up at him, impressed. He'd gotten it exactly right and never even asked her. "Macchiato with a vanilla shot. How'd you know?"

Jake shrugged. "Same way I found out all the other secrets in this place."

She shot him a cheeky grin. "Asked Chuny?"

"Who else?" He laughed and grinned back, indicating the empty space next to her. "You mind?"

She shook her head and smiled. "Not at all."

**0-0-0-0-0-0**

Neela was thoroughly exhausted by the time she dragged herself out the ER doors and through the ambulance bay. As promised, Ray was waiting for her - hands in his pockets, leaning against the passenger door of a navy blue minivan.

She scanned up and down the street, but couldn't see any sign of the big conversion model she'd been expecting. She frowned. "I thought you were going to buy a van today."

"I did."

"So where'd you park? Timbuktu?"

He pushed up from his spot and grinned, holding out a hand to the van behind him. "Not exactly."

Neela stared at him. "You bought a minivan."

"It was safer than a rustbucket," he replied with a shrug. The sidewalk was empty but he lowered his voice anyway and shot her a smile as he opened the door for her. "I can't be driving the two of you around in _those_ things anymore, can I? Come on, try it out."

She put her stuff in the back and slid into the passenger seat as he closed the door.

A minivan.

It was a newer model, not more than four years old, in excellent condition. And no doubt way out of his price range.

"Ray..." she protested, "the payments -"

"Aren't really that much," he replied, and she was certain he was lying.

"But the band -"

"Will just have to live with it." He leaned in the passenger window with a grin. "So? What do you think?"

Neela looked at him through a blur of tears. "I think - that I don't know what I did to deserve you for a roommate or a friend," she swiped at her eyes, offering a watery smile, "but whatever it was, I'm glad I did it."

Ray smiled back at her and reached for the hand in her lap, giving it a gentle squeeze. "Ditto."

"Yo, Ray!"

He turned away from the window, allowing Neela a clear view of Morris, heading toward them with Jane in tow.

Morris looked between Ray and the new van and laughed. "A _minivan_, Barnett?" he teased, "you planning for the future or is there something we should know?"

He looked at Ray expectantly, and Neela held her breath as Jane caught her gaze and narrowed her eyes in suspicion.

Oh _god_, she wasn't ready for this to be public knowledge. And not to Jane and _Morris_, of all people. Jane knew how to keep a secret - though they weren't exactly close. But Morris had a bigger mouth than Frank. And that was saying something; she'd seen the older man stuff an entire chili dog into his mouth in one sitting.

Neela tried to keep her expression as passive as she could manage, but her stomach churned nervously and it took every ounce of control she had not to heave all over Ray's new front seat. Jane held her gaze a moment more, then looked away, giving their Chief Resident a well placed elbow to the ribs.

"Oh can it, Archie." She tugged at his elbow. "Come on, I'm starving."

Morris looked over at Ray. "You guys wanna join us?"

Ray shook his head. "Can't. Got a rehearsal."

It was a lie, but Morris didn't know that.

"Okay. But you'll be at my party, right?"

Ray nodded. "Yeah, man. Absolutely."

"What about you, Neela? You coming?"

She thought back to what she'd told Abby the previous day and forced a bright smile, hoping she didn't sound as jumpy as she felt. "Wouldn't miss it."

**0-0-0-0-0-0**

Jane's curiosity was burning a hole through her head by the time she arrived at work the next morning. She'd known there was something up with Neela, but she couldn't put her finger on what it was. After last night, though, she had a pretty good idea, and she could've kicked herself for not putting it together sooner.

Noticing movement out of the corner of her eye, she caught Neela heading for the ladies' room and followed her in. Now was her chance.

The sound of retching greeted her and Jane waited for Neela to come out of the stall. She emerged several minutes later, pale and shaky, and gratefully took the wet paper towel Jane handed her to wipe her face.

"Thanks."

Jane watched as she leaned over to rinse out her mouth. "Don't mention it." She smirked. "So did Ray get the full service wash and wax when he parked his van in your garage?"

Neela choked on the water she was rinsing with and came up sputtering, shooting her a look. "Have you been smoking Morris's weed?"

Jane returned it with one of her own. "You know, for someone who watches as much poker as you do, you don't play very well. Your game face sucks; Archie only had to _hint_ at the B-word and you gave yourself away."

A look of panic crossed Neela's face. She reminded Jane of a deer - usually right before it ended up splattered it all over the road - and she looked like she wanted to throw up again.

"It's - it's not Ray's," she answered thickly, "it's Michael's."

"I figured."

And she really had; it was fairly common knowledge to anyone who really knew her that Neela was far too upright and honest to be involved with one man and have something going on the side with another. And her crude comment about Ray had only been meant to get Neela's attention and call her bluff.

Mission: accomplished.

But Neela rambled on, apparently unable to stop the torrent of words once the dam had been opened.

"Ray, Ray's just - I mean - Michael's so far away, and I can't tell him yet in case something happens, and Ray's here, and he's a friend - a good friend - _best_ friend, even, and we live together and he just wants to help until Michael comes home, and -" Her eyes went wide. "No one else knows except Abby - and Ray. You can't -"

Jane took pity on her. "Relax, Neela. I'm not gonna spill your secret; it's not mine to tell. But if _I_ figured it out, it's only a matter of time before everyone else does." She shot her a look. "And you know what the rumor mill's like in this place; everyone already thinks you and Ray are sleeping together, so just wait till they find out about this."

She sighed, shoulders sagging in defeat. "I know. I just need some time to adjust, before everyone else finds out and starts talking."

Jane nodded. "Yeah, I can understand that." She hesitated, unsure of exactly how to say what she wanted to. "Look, I - uh - you've been - really good with the advice about Archie and everything, and I doubt I'll have anything as useful to say, but if you need someone to talk to, or vent at, or - whatever - and Abby's not around..." She ended her ramble, looking at the other woman with a nervous smile.

"Thanks," Neela smiled back, still a little green. The silence was awkward and she cleared her throat as she straightened her lab coat then broke into a grin. "Speaking of you and Morris, how's that working out?"

Jane laughed, relieved to feel the bubble of tension around them burst. "Moving slowly; too slow, almost. Only been out three times and we haven't even kissed yet. But good, I think. _Now_, anyway. But did I ever tell you what happened on our first real date?"

**0-0-0-0-0-0**

It was nearly six-thirty by the time Neela finally made it home - three hours late due to a couple of last minute traumas. Her secret was intact - thanks to Jane's quick intervention on a rule-out meningitis - but she was rapidly coming to realize that the younger woman was right; the day was fast approaching when her little secret wouldn't be so secret anymore.

She knew she'd have to say something soon - before it became embarrassingly obvious - and she promised herself she would.

After Coburn confirmed it.

It was a stall tactic, meant to keep her ethical alarm system from tripping. But like all stall tactics, it would only work for so long, and she had the sinking feeling that her time was nearly up.

She let herself into the apartment and set her things down by the door. Ray didn't look up or offer her anything in the way of a greeting, and as she came up behind him, she discovered why.

He was sitting on the couch, deeply engrossed in the book on his lap and surrounded by a bunch of others. Pregnancy books, she realized, as she looked down over his shoulder, her eyes scanning the pages of the one he was reading.

It slammed shut as she loudly cleared her throat, but she couldn't see the title with the way his arm rested over the book. Ray glanced up at her with something of a nervous smile.

"Hey. Didn't expect you home so early."

She folded her arms with a rueful grin. "I'm three hours later than I was supposed to be."

His smile faded. "Oh."

"What's all this?" Neela queried, indicating the books as she came around the front of the couch with a chuckle, folding herself into the space that Ray was making for her.

"I wanted to be able to help out with stuff. You know, in case Gallant can't get home for a while." He laughed nervously, wrinkling his nose. "And I don't know a thing about babies. Or pregnant women."

She blinked back the tears that had formed at the mention of Michael and laughed in spite of herself, pushing away the lonely thoughts. Her gaze fell across the book on Ray's lap and her laughter faded; his arm had since moved, giving her a clear view of the title.

"What to Expect When Your _Wife_ is Expecting?"

Ray looked at her and shrugged. "It was the closest I could get to 'roommate'. Oh -" He handed her a stack of three books - two baby naming guides and _The Morning Sickness Companion_. "These are yours."

Taking the books, she looked down at her lap. Buying a minivan, buying pregnancy books, _reading_ pregnancy books...he was going out of his way for her - more than she'd ever expected and far more than she deserved. Tears threatened again, but she blinked them away. God, these hormones. She felt like an over-emotional fool.

"Thanks," she finally managed, not trusting herself to say more.

But her voice trembled, betraying her, and he nudged her arm.

"Hey. What's wrong?"

Neela shook her head, sniffling and swiping at her eyes with the knuckles of her thumbs. She couldn't tell him the truth; he'd just brush her off and tell her it was no big deal. And maybe it wasn't. Maybe she really was over-emotional.

"It's nothing." More sniffles as she choked on a laugh. "Bloody hormones."

Ray laughed with her and picked up the remote. "Well, this should help."

He pointed it at the DVR and pressed a button. She watched as the title screens for the World Poker Tour started rolling.

"You recorded it for me." Neela smiled softly before leaning her head against his shoulder with a sigh. "Thanks, Ray."

"Yeah, well..." She could hear the grin in his voice when he spoke. "Anything for my Roomie."

**0-0-0-0-0-0**

Monday evening finally arrived and found Morris eagerly signing out his patients to Pratt, unable to contain his anticipation. He couldn't remember when five days had ever passed so slowly. They'd passed, though, that was the important thing - and in a little while he and Jane would be in the park, watching the fireworks and hopefully setting off some of their own.

Three dates - actually two, dinner the other night didn't count since they'd run into Malik, Haleh, and Chuny - and he hadn't even kissed her yet. The first date, his face had been too swollen and sore from the brawl in chairs to even think about it. The second, she'd spent half the night puking over the side of a boat on Lake Michigan - a definite mood killer.

This time, though, things were going to be different; they'd be on dry land and hopefully there wouldn't be any brawls until _after_ he kissed her.

His thoughts were interrupted as she stepped up next to him, signing her own patients out. "You ready?"

"Yeah." It was already dark by the time they stepped out into the ambulance bay. "I just have to stop by my place and walk the dog. He hasn't been out since I left."

"So bring him with us."

He stopped walking and looked at her. "Really?"

Jane laughed lightly. "Yes, really. Animal lover, remember? And it's only fair; you've met my cats after all."

Morris wrinkled his nose. "Yes I have. Delilah hates me."

"Don't take it personally," Jane answered with a rueful smile. "Delilah hates all my boyfriends."

_Boyfriends?__ As in plural? How many does - wait a minute. Did she just -?_

He turned and looked at her, swallowing past the nervous lump in his throat. "All of them? How many do you have?"

She held his gaze, a delicate blush staining her cheeks. "Just one."

"Oh. Good." He grinned and fought the urge to kiss her right there; he wanted it to be absolutely perfect, and the middle of the ambulance bay was anything but. "'Cause I only have one girlfriend, myself. Jughead hates to share, too."

She looked at him. "_Jughead?_ You named your dog _Jughead_?"

"Archie...Jughead..." He shrugged. "Seemed appropriate."

Jane shook her head, but her eyes sparkled with amusement. "You're crazy, you know."

"Yeah, I know." He shot her a grin. "Fortunately, my girlfriend doesn't mind."

**0-0-0-0-0-0**

"Thanks, Jake," Susan said as she, Carter, and Malik and wheeled the patient toward the elevators, "we'll take it from here. Pratt's running the board; check with him to see if he's got anything."

He nodded and made his way back to admit, where Pratt was clearing up the board of discharged and transferred patients. "Lewis said to check and see if you had anything else for me."

Pratt shook his head. "Board's clear. For now." He frowned. "How long have you been on?"

"Since noon. They asked me to come in a few hours early cause we were getting slammed."

"Why don't you go ahead and take your break then."

"You sure?"

"Yeah." Pratt sighed. "Neela went home at three, but we've still got Abby and Babinski on, so it's fine, and if you don't take it now, you might not get one. We'll probably get slammed again later on; idiot kids and their fireworks. I'll page you if things get busy, just don't go too far."

Jake nodded and headed towards admit. Leaving word with Frank that he was going on break, he made his way across the street to pick up dinner. Ray was off and Morris had already left, so it looked like he was flying solo tonight.

Or not.

Sam was sitting on a bench in the ambulance bay - the same bench from a few days before - when he made his way back to the hospital twenty minutes later, hot pizza and cold cider in hand. She'd been on shift as long as he had and looked like she needed a break just as much.

He approached her with a grin. "You know, we've gotta stop meeting like this."

She gave him a tired smile. "Hey."

"You on break?"

"Yeah."

He nudged her with the pizza box. "Perfect. Come on." Sam stayed where she was and shot him a dubious look, so he tried another tack. "ER's dead. They'll page us if they need us. Or we could wait here for the next ambulance to pull up."

That got her moving and she followed him through the ER, back towards the elevators, turning to him as he jabbed the up button with the corner of the pizza box.

"Where are we going?"

"You'll see," he promised with a sly smile as the doors opened and they stepped inside.

"The roof?" she queried as he selected the floor.

"Fireworks'll be starting soon, if they haven't already." He grinned. "And it'll take us a lot longer to get back downstairs."

The corners of her mouth inched upward. "Good point."

They stepped out onto the roof and found a suitable spot. Jake set up the chaise loungers someone had left, putting the pizza box on the ground between them, along with the non-alcoholic cider he'd picked up at the Jumbomart.

"This is really nice, Jake," Sam said as she washed down a mouthful of pizza. "Thanks."

He waved her off. "You've been on as long as I have and you looked like you needed the break."

"Flattery will get you anywhere, Scanlon," she teased.

He swigged his cider. "You know what I mean. I'm starting to recognize the look. Same one Ray gets when he pulls a double." He smirked. "Or Dubenko starts writing on walls."

"Chuny tell you about that, too?" she grinned.

He laughed. "Well, I did ask for_all_ the gossip, so I kind of walked into that one."

When the pizza was gone, they sipped their cider in companionable silence, reveling in the breeze that blew in off the lake. "So, you going to Morris's birthday party?"

"I hadn't planned on it. Was gonna use Alex as an excuse."

"But...?"

"But..." she sighed. "His carpool brought him here after soccer practice and Morris kind of invited him." She looked over at him. "And Alex told him we'd be there."

"Might be good for him," Jake offered. "Might be good for you, too."

Just like that, the shutters came down. "I don't need you to tell me what's good for me or my kid, okay?"

He remembered the rumors and gossip about her and Kovac and realized his mistake. Kovac had tried to tell her what to do and how to feel and how to raise Alex, too.

Jake sighed. _Way to go, Scanlon._ This was _not_ the way he'd wanted to spend the evening.

"Look, I didn't mean to piss you off. I'm just saying they're –" There was a defiance in the reference to their previous lovers. " - obviously over us. Maybe it's about time we started thinking about being over them."

She looked out into the distance, watching as the fireworks display rained sparks of color down over the city below and seemed to be considering his words. Finally, she turned back to face him and held his gaze, holding up her plastic cup.

"To independence."

He echoed her words and tapped his against it. The tension lessened, just a bit, but didn't dissipate entirely and they sipped from their glasses, watching the rest of the fireworks in a silence that hovered somewhere between tense and uncomfortable - only too glad when their pagers intruded, calling them back downstairs.

0-0-0-0-0-0

Ray drained the last of the beer from his bottle and sighed. Neela was asleep and had been since she'd gotten home that afternoon. He'd had offered to call the guys and tell them they'd have to watch somewhere else, but she'd refused, told him not to worry about waking her, and retreated to her room.

She was a much heavier sleeper now, so she was probably right about the noise not waking her as it used to, but he'd told the guys when they arrived that they had to keep it down anyway, and they'd been only too happy to oblige. Anything for Dr. Neela.

The umpire signaled a ball and Ray wanted to hit something in frustration. "What the hell kinda call was _that_?" he whispered harshly.

Bret groaned next to him. "Dumbass ump." He scrubbed a hand over his face and gestured angrily at the TV as yet another ball was called, but never raised his voice above the harsh whisper Ray had used. "Oh, come _on_!" he groused, and Nick and Reilly joined him in equally quiet complaint as the batter walked to first base.

"Why are you whispering?"

Her voice sounded too loud against the low volume of the TV and the general quiet of the apartment, and the four of them jumped, startled.

Ray whipped his head around to face her. "Jesus, Neela, scare the hell out of me why don'tcha."

"Sorry."

She offered a cheeky grin, and her eyes sparkled with an amusement that told him she wasn't sorry at all. But it was impossible to be annoyed with her; it was the first sign of something other than exhaustion, morning sickness, or guilt that he'd seen out of her in more than a week.

He shot her a scowl, but the corners of his mouth were inching upwards and mischief danced in his eyes. "Yeah, right."

"Dr. Neela." Nick was up off the couch to greet her and eyed her worriedly. "We didn't wake you up, did we?"

"No," she smirked and glanced pointedly at Ray. "For once."

Ray rolled his eyes, but couldn't keep from grinning. "Ha ha, Roomie. You're killing me."

Riley waved by way of a greeting. "Hey. How you feelin'?"

"Better than the last time you saw me," she replied with a sheepish grin, and Ray shuddered, remembering the day he'd come home to find her literally passed out on the couch.

"Good." Bret said as he shot her a smile and patted the empty space between him and Ray. "You gonna join us?"

Nick had elected to move to the floor between the couch and coffee table, Ray noted - right next to the cooler of beer. He wasn't as stupid as he looked.

Neela smiled and lowered herself onto the couch between Ray and Bret. "Sure."

Ray looked over at her with concern. "Don't you need to sleep some more, or something?"

Neela rolled her eyes as Riley turned up the volume on the TV. "I've been sleeping for the past three or four hours."

"I don't know, you still look kinda tired."

"I'm fine, Ray. Honest." She grinned. "Now, someone hand me a bottle of water and tell me who's winning."

**0-0-0-0-0-0**

Jane held onto the crook of Archie's arm as they walked towards the park, Jughead happily trotting along in front of them. She still couldn't quite believe what she'd said to him earlier; she'd actually _flirted_ with him. She _never_ flirted. At least she never used to, but Archie had turned her head completely upside down since he'd asked her out to Ike's that first time after his concussion, and it hadn't stopped spinning since.

But she couldn't say she'd change it. Even the date from hell. Sure, it was a perfectly horrible evening. But it let her know what kind of guy he really was. Most others wouldn't have bothered with her after that disaster, but he'd switched shifts, gone by her apartment to check on her, and asked her out again. She'd thought then she'd have been an idiot to refuse. She knew now she was right.

They arrived at the park a few minutes later, jarring her from her thoughts. It was already mostly full, but they managed to find a decent spot with a good view. Morris spread out the blanket he'd brought from his apartment, and the three of them settled in, waiting for the fireworks to start.

"You're kinda quiet," he observed. "If you've changed your mind, we can -"

"I haven't." She shot him a reassuring smile and picked absently at a blade of grass. "I was just thinking."

"Oh." He was silent for a few moments, as if he was waiting for something, then he grinned and spoke again. "Are you gonna tell me or should I start guessing?"

"This," she gestured between them with a laugh. "I mean, it's kind of funny, huh? The way it happened?"

He laughed, too. "Yeah, a little. But I don't regret it. And I wouldn't change it."

"Me neither," she answered with a smile.

She thought back to her conversation with Neela the other day. Well, almost. There was one thing she would change, and she chewed on her bottom lip, debating whether or not she should tell him what it was. On the one hand, he might think she was too forward - especially after earlier - but on the other, it wasn't like she was asking him home to bed.

_Yet._

She squashed that thought before it went too far, and finally decided to bite the bullet.

"Actually, there is one thing I'd change."

He looked over at her. His expression was calm, but there was a hint of apprehension in his eyes. "What?"

"The other night, at dinner." She knew she was blushing, but pressed on. "You would've kissed me."

It was his turn to blush now. "I wanted to, but Malik, Haleh, and Chuny..."

He trailed off and she caught his gaze, barely recognizing her own voice. "They're not here now."

His eyes changed, from apprehension to something else entirely, and he inched closer, careful not squash Jughead, who was sleeping between them. "Is that an invitation?"

She shot him a teasing grin. "Well, I'm not gonna engrave it, so you better -"

Supporting his weight on one hand so he wouldn't overbalance and crush the dog, he covered her mouth with his. The world exploded into brilliant color - literally - as the fireworks began, and he slid his other hand up to cup her face, fingers tangling in her curls as she leaned into him and deepened the kiss.

They parted a few moments later, staring at each other in breathless wonder. The loud pop of a firework exploding startled them both out of their reverie and they looked up, watching as it exploded, raining red, white and blue.

Morris grinned and moved in for another kiss, muttering against her lips as they met again.

"God bless America."


End file.
